


Dance Me To The Moon

by mjartrod



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feminist Themes, Post-Divorce, Romance, Unlikely Pairing, set in 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjartrod/pseuds/mjartrod
Summary: She was paid handsomely to be an escort for one night only at a prestigious Formula 1 gala, in Monaco.Her client: a four time world champion.
Relationships: Hanna Prater/Sebastian Vettel (mentioned), Sebastian Vettel/Original Female Character
Comments: 24
Kudos: 42





	1. Queer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> Completely out of my depth here, writing a romance (gasp) and most shocking of all, with a F/M pairing. I'm blaming it on Sebastian. SorrynotSorry for kinda turning his life upside down, but I did my best to make it up to him! 
> 
> I'm not a native speaker and I don't have a beta; any mistakes are my own, so bear with me.
> 
> All characters and events in these stories are fictional, even those based on real people and material (having been altered, added or left out for dramatic purposes).

  
  


She looked at the reflection in the car’s window and adjusted her breasts again in the deep V shaped neckline. 

_Stop fussing_ , she told herself. Not exactly risqué, but with more cleavage on display than anticipated, a wardrobe malfunction would definitely not be a good look after so much attention was put on her outfit for the evening. Discreet but not conservative had been the request. In other words - hot but not trashy. 

They validated it anyway, not her fault.

Pretending not to see the driver glancing at her through the rear view mirror, she checked the window reflection once more. The messy updo hairstyle was holding well, only a few pieces of straight dark brown dangling in the front as intended.

The radio played at low volume an old song from Garbage; outside, the scenery changed from bright lights and busy streets across the small principality of Monaco to a narrower road. The car came to a stop only a few metres ahead in another extravagant square and her stomach did a small summersault. She swallowed, lifting her chin and straightening her posture. Waiting for the door to open to step out, she smoothed down her gown, clutch bag tightly held with both hands. Ignoring the many camera flashes going off from the photographers jostled behind a small barrier, she went straight to the entrance. 

Heads turned. She was aware of how desirable she looked; men liked her body and in that tight, black beaded mermaid gown, her figure was showcased perfectly.

For an escort, sessions that paid as well as this one didn’t come by often and she fought tooth and nail to land this contract. Nonetheless, nothing ever came without a price. The mile long non disclosure agreement in addition to the regular paperwork was enough to be slightly unsettling but it wasn’t uncommon with a certain type of clients - usually wealthy and with an army of lawyers ready to deny any involvement in certain activities. It was relatable. She also had no wish of having these engagements somehow compromising her daily life. 

More concerning was the fact that the contract did not specify the services to be provided. It was fairly straightforward in the sense that the client was to be accompanied in a high profile event in motorsport, which included a dinner. That was standard. But beyond that there was very little, which left her with an uncomfortably open deal in her hands. In fact, there was only a short list of things that were _not_ part of the package - the basics that ensured her safety and nothing more. 

The blonde lady that had conducted the interview in the final stage of the recruitment was inside, just past the gates as previously agreed, looking very glamorous in a black dress but still very professional. It was obvious she worked directly with the client, either as personal assistant or in a similar capacity.

“Good evening, Ms. Roeske,” she greeted, extending her hand. The lady had only been introduced to her like that, no first names had been exchanged. 

Ms. Roeske leaned over to greet her with two kisses on the cheek. “You’re late,“ she said. “Good evening, Rio.”

“There was traffic, I’m sorry,” she tried her best apologetic face, despite the fact that it had not been her fault at all. “Have you been waiting for long?”

She glanced around instinctively, to check for anyone waiting, but for little purpose because in here lied the other most intriguing aspect of this deal: she didn't know who her client was. 

Normally, an escort had to be informed in advance, it was necessary to sanction the client. But one of the main conditions for this job was to accept that they’d only know his identity when they met in person on the day of the event. Not just no name, but also no occupation, no age range, no indication in regards to what type of companionship he wanted for the evening, even more vague in terms of sexual preferences. 

In short - a male that wanted only someone to look pretty by his side at dinner, to fuck any way he saw fit afterwards and that could keep her mouth shut throughout the whole affair. For all of which he had negotiated a hefty price with her company. Privacy and secrecy were the keywords here, even beyond the strict patterns of the agency. 

Most likely it was a control freak, someone extremely paranoid. With an unusual and embarrassing kink. Perhaps someone with something to hide. 

In reality, she simply had no idea. In her experience, and from what Natasha said, despite most clients having some very particular requests, so many in one like in this situation was uncommon. 

She didn't even know why she'd been picked. Usually, the girls were either chosen from the catalog or, depending on what was required in terms of companionship, looks and preferences, the agency would advise on who could best fit those requisites. But this person had selected a number of girls and then had a lady interviewing them personally. It would make sense if the point was to evaluate their personality but it was such a short chat that it couldn’t possibly have been enough for that either. 

It was a complete mystery. 

The agency treated it all as a regular occurrence but the fact was that she’d have to wing it; read him as the night went on and try to please him to the best of her abilities. And there was no room for mistakes, they would definitely keep tabs on her to make sure there were no screw ups. They prided themselves in their status as one of the top high class escort agencies and she couldn’t say she had a lot of experience yet, even less for the amount of money involved here.

“No," Ms. Roeske replied. "We haven’t been waiting for long. He was late too." 

Walking side by side, the two were quickly immersed in a sea of black tuxedos, only a handful more extravagant popping out, while women were dressed in a wide range of styles. Many looked like models; they probably were. She could also swear she had spotted one of the Spice Girls among some of the people in a group nearby but could have been just a lookalike.

In another group they passed, she recognised Natasha, her Russian flatmate in London, standing next to her own client, an older man who was one of her regulars. The see-through gown Natasha donned was more subdued in the middle of such an audience but still eye catching. There wasn't any outfit the tall, flashy blonde couldn't pull off.

“Ciao, Britta,” a man in a smart suit greeted Ms. Roeske cordially. A little Ferrari pin shone on the lapel of his jacket. Together with the army of paparazzi outside, it served as a reminder that this was an exclusive event, filled with the rich and famous. 

Ms. Roeske - Britta - exchanged pleasantries with him and many others, in different languages too, showing a very warm smile and the skills of someone who was used to communicating. She was definitely well connected.

“We'll introduce you now, Rio. So this is what you need to know,” her intermediary started as they approached a small group composed mostly of men in, surprise, black tuxedos. “Your date is a Formula 1 driver. He’s a multiple world champion from Germany and he currently drives for Ferrari. You said before you didn’t know anything about Formula 1 but I’m certain you’ve heard of them.” 

Every piece of information disclosed delivered a punch to the stomach. A Formula 1 champion. A _Ferrari_ Formula 1 driver. He was famous. 

She’d been hired as an escort for a celebrity. 

But there was no time to process any of the revelations because Britta was already raising a hand to the group to call someone over. “He’s called Sebastian. Sebastian Vettel.”

A blond man of medium stature, maybe in his thirties, was coming over. Black tuxedo and bowtie, he couldn’t blend in better in the audience if he tried and she gave it her best not to look like a deer caught in headlights as it sunk in that she had been hired to entertain someone who sounded like the last in this event in need of paying to have company. It certainly explained a number of things in the arrangement - and raised an awful lot of questions. 

That he was famous, it didn't faze her, she was used to all types of environments and not easily impressed in that regard. That he was young and successful? This was not good news.

Greeting his assistant first, in German, he then addressed her by name a little stiffly, despite the two kisses on the cheek. The two countrymen exchanged an inscrutable look before Britta left; they were on their own.

He had very bright blue eyes and as he set his gaze on her, she felt an unpleasant chill down her spine.

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful.”

It sounded rehearsed, insincere and without a hint of a smile it was truly like reviewing an item from a catalog. 

She mentally reviewed every loophole in her contract which had been so carefully redacted. It was normal to be a little nervous before a session but right now she really was edging towards apprehension. What did he want out of this? The theory that this was someone with a strange kink, something that he’d like to remain a secret, was gaining strength. This was a man who obviously would have no problems to get laid - unless he wanted something he couldn’t easily get elsewhere. 

His eyes dropped very subtly to her cleavage but he looked away just as quickly. For a moment there was a flash of something on his expression, something that made it seem like he was as anxious about her as she was about him? Surely not? That was unexpected and it didn't do much to tranquilise her. 

The possibility that he was gay came just as quickly as she rejected it. There was no reason not to spell it out in the deal, in fact it wouldn’t be the first time a client hired an escort for that reason. Some PDA for show and that was it. The urge to google him to check whether there was anything salacious in the media gave away immediately the reason why she probably had not been told his name before. 

A waiter carrying a tray with champagne glasses approached and they took one. Sebastian seemed a little spaced out, glancing elsewhere and she decided to clink their glasses, capturing his attention again while aiming for sultry. 

“Looking forward to a fun night together.” And she sipped her drink suggestively.

Momentarily forgetting everything she’d been taught about different champagne brands and how to recognise them, instead she noted with some puzzlement how he downed almost the entire glass in one go, his pale cheeks flushing. 

He cleared his throat and pointed at the venue. “Should we start heading inside?”

He barely looked at her.

If there was any intention of breaking the ice, there was no chance for it because someone came around and clapped him on the back enthusiastically for a quick greeting. The situation repeated itself over and over, they literally couldn't take two steps without being stopped by someone. She quickly understood that her client was not just successful, he seemed very popular among the guests. Everyone knew him and he knew everyone; and they all wanted to say hello. All of a sudden, it looked like he _did_ know how to make small talk too. 

She was also aware of some inquiring looks sent her way, a little more loaded than the ones she was used to, to check her out. They were relaxing somehow. Certainly made her feel less lonely in her bewilderment, at least... 

The German driver only made an effort to introduce her, very casually, to a restricted number of people, as expected. Among those was Lewis Hamilton, in a bold green velvet suit, and _him_ she definitely recognised. He too glanced at her curiously. 

At some point the group switched to German and she busied herself with her glass of champagne. She spotted Natasha again and they exchanged a discreet wave, her flatmate winking at her before her client tightened his hold on her waist. A massive contrast with hers, who hadn’t touched her once yet, they probably hadn’t even brushed elbows. 

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian suddenly addressed her, lowering his voice as the others around continued chatting. “I’m being rude.”

“Pardon?” 

“I mean,” he looked around before fixing his eyes on hers again. It was slightly unnerving. “In general. I’m completely ignoring you and it’s a bit rude, you don’t know anyone else.”

Most clients enjoyed treating their girls well; at least in the beginning of the night they were very keen on causing a good impression. After the cold start tonight, though, she wasn’t expecting politeness over something she was used to, such as being disregarded in front of other people. 

She tried again. “Don’t feel obliged to do anything, just let me know what I can do for you. It’s your party, isn’t it?” From some fragments of the conversations floating, it seemed like he was one of the people collecting an award.

Unfortunately, apparently this also wasn’t the right thing to say. He continued gazing at her before suddenly looping an arm around her back and gently steering her away from the pathway that led indoors and towards a more secluded area.

“Look,” he started, making sure there was no one within earshot first and then staring straight at her gravely. “This is not gonna work.”

The alarm across her face must’ve been clear, she figured, because he rushed to elaborate. 

“No, no, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s nothing wrong with you,” he eyed her head to toe again. “You look lovely and, and I’m sure you're very nice. It's me, I made a mistake.” He bit his lip. “This wasn’t my idea and I thought I could do this but I can't. There’s no point to go on with it.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not following.”

“There’s… things that you were meant to do tonight, that were the main reason you’re here.”

She could barely believe she was about to discuss contracts with a client. The evening had barely started and it grew more and more baffling. “And what things were those?” She demanded. “I don’t know what you signed but in what I signed there was a distinct lack of specification on what exactly those _things_ that I’m supposed to do tonight are.”

“And you don’t have to worry about that.” he continued, not seeming bothered if she sounded defensive. “Because I’m not gonna ask you to do anything.” 

“I’m sorry but I really don’t understand.”

He exhaled. “First of all, you don’t have to be worried about not finishing your job or anything like that. It’s paid already, the whole evening. You're not gonna get into trouble." He waved at someone going past and turned a little on the spot to put his back to the entrance, shielding them from others. “What I mean is that you’re free of all of those obligations, I don’t want you to do anything.”

It was the most bizarre thing she had ever heard. Some men were more interested in the company than the sex but was he claiming he wanted neither? “Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Yeah, please. Go ahead.” 

“No offence, but you pay a fortune for sex,” she lowered her voice, “when you obviously don’t need to actually pay anyone to come to a party with you. You have me sign a NDA that could cover you with murder. And now you tell me that the whole deal is off?” As she spoke, an amused smile started to colour his features. “Far from me to tell you what you do with your money, I don’t even know you, but from my side it just sounds like you’re paying to _not_ have sex and keep _that_ a secret?” 

For a moment she feared she said too much and it was too late to retreat. But he didn’t seem upset at all.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to kill anyone.” And he smiled.

She blinked, perplexed. “Well, bloody good to know. I want no active or passive role in it if you do.”

He sighed, looking a little more serious again and running a hand through his hair. “Look, I made a mistake but obviously it’s too late to cancel anything now without causing problems just because I changed my mind. So I’m releasing you of that, it’s not like anyone can tell or needs to know what we did, you know? So we’ll just leave it like that."

He was absolutely serious. 

"... and that's it?"

"You can go home after dinner, I don’t know if you have a boyfriend or a husband that is waiting for you. Or a girlfriend or a wife.” He joked.

She didn’t know what to say. On one hand it was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders; at the same time there was something very off about this. She had no knowledge of anyone ever being this careless with such an expensive purchase. Then again, it was clear he could afford such carelessness. 

“If you want, you can also go now,” he eventually added with a shrug of shoulders. “I promise I won’t tell anyone and like I said, the payment is done.”

Promises counted for little and she had no idea whether the payment had been finalised or not but one thing was very obvious, he seemed infinitely more relaxed now. Certainly a little more likeable. Maybe because of that, maybe for some other reason she could not explain, she actually believed him. 

Still, it was risky to leave straight away and avoiding trouble at all costs was an absolute priority.

“There’s no one waiting,” she finally said, measuring her words. “I can stay, of course. The arrangement was for dinner as well and it‘s not like I have any interest in leaving you alone, I’m supposed to be your date. I wouldn’t want to impose if you just prefer to spend time with your friends but do you not care about being seen with someone as we were? And then suddenly on your own?”

“Would be nice to have some company, I don’t deny that." He admitted and then glanced at their surroundings. "Have you ever been to one of these things? They’re boring and I'm boring too you'll find that very quickly, but the food is usually alright.” He stuffed his hands in his trousers pockets with a disarming smile. 

Boring would certainly not be the first word coming to mind to describe either him nor the event so far. 

It weirdly felt as if he was trying to convince her to stay, as if she had to agree to it. If the idea was to get a girlfriend experience, surely the agency must have told him they provided that? He could have requested it. She didn't find him exactly attractive, nor ugly for that matter, but it was irrelevant either way because a man in a men's world was measured by success. And as such, he and his bank account alone were enough of a magnet for a queue of women to line up, ready to entertain him. 

“I’ll be more than happy to keep you company, it's only right. Even if it turns out that the food isn’t great.”

“We’ll keep each other company then, how does that sound?” He extended his hand with a mischievous spark in his eye but otherwise a completely straight face. “Hi. I’m Sebastian, pleasure to meet you.” 

She played along and shook his hand. “Rio. Pleasure is all mine.” 

“You know who I am, it’s only fair I know your real name.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. Of course he’d figure she wouldn’t be using her real name. No escort ever did, the names the agency provided were all fake. This was a step too far, for sure. 

He hadn’t let go of her hand yet, waiting for an answer and she froze. _Fuck it_. He’d literally just fired her, what was he going to do with that piece of information anyway? “It’s Stella.” 

”Star.”

“Excuse me?”

“It means star in Italian, right?”

“I… yes, I believe so.”  
  
Nobody had ever commented on that before and she didn’t speak Italian; but everyone knew what their own names meant. 

Sebastian offered his arm and Stella took it. She was ready for the next twist in tonight’s job. 

Whatever that might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queer - GARBAGE
> 
> _Hey boy, take a look at me  
>  Let me dirty up your mind  
> I'll strip away your hard veneer  
> And see what I can find_
> 
> _The queerest of the queer  
>  The strangest of the strange  
> The coldest of the cool  
> The lamest of the lame  
> The numbest of the dumb  
> I hate to see you here  
> You choke behind a smile  
> A fake behind the fear  
> The queerest of the queer_
> 
> _This is what he pays me for  
>  I'll show you how it's done  
> You learn to love the pain you feel  
> Like father like son_
> 
> _The queerest of the queer  
>  Hide inside your head  
> The blindest of the blind  
> The deadest of the dead  
> You're hungry 'cause you starve  
> While holding back the tears  
> Choking on your smile  
> A fake behind the fear  
> The queerest of the queer_
> 
> _I know what's good for you, you can touch me if you want  
>  I know you're dying to, you can touch me if you want  
> I know what's good for you, you can touch me if you want  
> But you can't stop_
> 
> _The queerest of the queer  
>  The strangest of the strange  
> The coldest of the cool  
> The lamest of the lame  
> The numbest of the dumb  
> I hate to see you here  
> You choke behind a smile  
> A fake behind the fear  
> The queerest of the queer  
> The strangest of the strange  
> The coldest of the cool  
> You're nothing special here  
> A fake behind the fear  
> The queerest of the queer_
> 
> _I know what's good for you I know you're dying to  
>  I know what's good for you  
> I bet you're dying to  
> You can touch me if you want  
> You can touch me if you want  
> You can touch me  
> You can touch me  
> But you can't stop _


	2. Party Rock Anthem

They were late. By the time Stella and Sebastian navigated across the large room and arrived at their designated table the waiters had already started serving the appetizers. 

The round banquet tables sat about ten people. They were joined by Finnish Kimi Raikkonen, whose face Stella was familiar with from ads on TV and with whom Sebastian was obviously friends with, the easy rapport between them and Kimi's wife, who sat between the two, leaving no doubts. Among the other dining companions was Sebastian’s younger teammate at Ferrari and his girlfriend although there was no chance for a proper introduction, only quick nods of head upon their arrival; the others were also Ferrari people, but she couldn’t catch anyone else’s names except the boss’, Mattia, who sat close to Charles Leclerc. 

It wasn’t unlike any work dinner she'd experienced, at her own jobs or as an escort, except the catering was significantly better than what she was used to and the venue could hardly be more lavish, with its glass walls and shiny little lights in the ceiling making it seem as though they were under a starry sky. Turned out Sebastian was funny, or at least funnier than what she expected, and he seemed to be the only person who could easily hold the attention of the whole table at once. Not bad for a German, she thought.

Everything was going smoothly without much required from her, just generic chit chat, until at some point, after the main course had been served, Sebastian turned to her and motioned to her plate with his chin, noticing she'd barely touched the food and was mostly poking at the sides with a fork. 

“Are you afraid you won't fit in the dress anymore?”

She twisted her mouth. “Overcooked beef.”

He looked at hers and then pointed at his. "Mine is good. You want to try it?”

He leaned back to make room for her, while she inspected. “No, it’s not. Overcooked, too.” 

“So tell us about Stella, Sebastian." 

They raised their heads simultaneously towards Kimi’s wife, Minttu, who apparently had been watching their interaction. By her side, her husband glanced at her but made no further comment. Stella suspected he knew more than he let on. 

"How did you meet?”  
  
“At work,” Sebastian said without missing a beat. 

The official story was that it was a blind date but somehow it didn’t even surprise Stella anymore that he wasn’t sticking to it. He seemed determined to break every rule of these arrangements and while it should be infuriating, somehow she was starting to find it somewhat amusing. 

"You work for one of the teams?”

“Not exactly, no." There was an awkward pause. "I work in aviation.”

“Oh, you’re a flight attendant?”

“I’m a pilot. I’m halfway through my training to get a commercial license.”

She could feel Sebastian’s eyes on her as he sipped his glass of wine and she kicked herself mentally for blurting it out like that. Sharing something of this nature, mixing daily life and night job, was a bad idea altogether, hence why she’d never done so before. 

But he didn’t bring it up again.

When desserts and coffee were served and guests began to mingle a little, Charles came over to Sebastian, phone in hand, and requested a selfie.

“But another one?”

“Is the first one tonight. I have never seen you in a suit before!” There was a childlike enthusiasm about it that was endearing.

“Of course you’ve seen me in a suit before.”

“Not like,” he points up and down, seemingly impressed. “Not like _that_!”

The German seemed to be holding back an eye roll but there was a certain fondness in the way he patiently obliged and interacted with Charles nonetheless. They took the picture but the younger driver lingered the same, sort of awkwardly, fiddling with the phone and looking a little distracted. 

“What is it?” Sebastian asked, not missing it either. 

Charles seemed to hesitate for a moment and shuffled from one side to another on his feet. But then dipped his head and lowered his voice. “You were right, Seb. You and Daniel were right. Okay? And I was wrong. Happy?”

Sebastian sighed. “Ah. No. No, that doesn’t make me happy.”

“How did you know? I am so stupid.”

Rotating in his chair and closing the distance between the two of them, he now had his back to Stella and it was more difficult to catch the conversation. “Stop saying that, you are not stupid. Listen-”

“I know what you’re going to say and I don’t care. This is going to be horrible!”

They were hissing back and forth by then and when Charles glanced over to the other end of the table, it dawned on Stella that the topic of conversation was none other than his girlfriend, currently absorbed in her phone. Looking back at the young Ferrari driver, her gaze met his unexpectedly.

“Oh! Hello.” He said awkwardly. 

Sebastian turned to her, as if he’d forgotten she was there and she understood that Charles thought he was interrupting. But before she could say anything to make it clear that he was not, he was already walking towards her, hand outstretched. 

“We haven’t been officially introduced, someone here was rude. I’m Charles, I’m Seb’s teammate.” There were dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. The mandatory intrigued glance, the one she’d already gotten used to seeing still came, in spite of the fact that she'd been sitting there all dinner. “I will go now and try to…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Have fun!” 

“Thank you, you too! And good luck.” She gave him a sympathetic smile and he winked at her, or tried to, somewhat unsuccessfully.

He patted them both on the back and his older teammate clapped his arm encouragingly, together with a promise to chat later and Charles nodded, looking down. He ended up directing to a different table after another small hesitation. In the meanwhile, his girlfriend was still smiling down at her phone, inconspicuously. No, that relationship didn’t seem fated to last much longer.

Sebastian only gave her a small shrug and an eyebrow raise and returned to his cheesecake.

Eventually, the awards ceremony began. With moderate pomp, loud music blared from the speakers as people finished their meals and waiters collected plates and cutlery, just the usual endless array of glasses left on the table tops. There didn't seem to be more than polite, casual attention given by the majority of attendees, a low background noise from people chattering remaining. Despite all the Monaco glitz, this event was probably not that much of a deal for the ones involved.

“... and no one should have any doubts that," the host droned on, in what sounded like the longest introduction ever, in Stella's opinion. "And I shall say this only once, there will be-”  
  
“I shall say this... only once _._ ” She muttered under her breath, with the best French accent she could muster.

Immediately, Sebastian turned to her with a grin, looking like he was trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Is that from _'Allo, 'Allo!_ ? _"_

She hadn't thought anyone would hear her, let alone recognise it. "Yeah. British comedy gold.”

Sebastian whispered back to her, leaning back. “They’re the best. So you know _Monty Python_?"

“Of course. It’s one of my favourites.”  
  
“ _Your mother was a hamster,_ " he began with a higher, silly voice, making a pretty decent impression. " _And your father_ -”

“- _your father smelt of elderberries_ ."  
  
They giggled.

“Did you see a pro Brexit tabloid mistakenly using for an article a picture of a mock blue passport, with this hamster line?” She chuckled as he nodded enthusiastically, covering his mouth to hide the laughter. 

“Didn’t take you for a classics lover,” he said and, at a cocked eyebrow from her, added, “No offence, you just look a little too young for that.”  
  
“How old do you think I am?”

He pursed his lips, with his eyes narrowed. “Dangerous question. Hmm I’m gonna guess you look much younger than your age. You’re… 28.”

“Oh, you’re cheating. You knew my age already.”

“I couldn’t know. So I got it right?” 

“Very close, I’m 29.”  
  
“See, not cheating.” He tilted his head to the side. “Almost got it right. And you're not even that much younger than me."  
  
“I’m sorry, I have no idea how old you are.”

“Take a guess.”  
  
“Well,” she tried. “I think you're younger than you look.”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Thanks for that!”  
  
“It’s the suits, they always age you,” she explained. “I don’t know. 34 or 35?” 

“Oh how old do I look _then_ ?” He grimaced but it was clear he was not offended in the least. “I'm 32. I know, I know, I already look older.”  
  
“I wanted to say less to be honest but I saw your achievements listed on the screen earlier and I don’t know, I thought,” she shrugged. He let her speak, just listening with a smile. “I must be the only clueless person in this room, I’m a barbarian.”

“You clearly are not.”  
  
He gazed intently at her when sudden loud applause drowned all conversations and they stopped there.

It was a typical award ceremony, with the occasional person tripping as they climbed the stairs to collect a trophy and a host that attempted to be funny but delivered several moments of cringe. The effects of free booze were starting to show on certain sectors of the venue as well. When Sebastian took the stage to receive one of the awards, for runner up the year before in the championship, he had the audience laughing easily with a couple of jokes, some at his own expense. 

The intermission arrived not long after that, with a large majority of the attendees roaming about the place, leaving several tables nearly empty. Sebastian had been pulled by people from another team some time ago and Stella ended up sitting on her own. 

She was retouching her makeup with a bit of extra powder when a tall, older man entered her field of vision, approaching. Taking Sebastian’s seat confidently, he sat facing her and her head shot upwards. He was far too close for comfort and she inched back a little, sure that the man’s move had been very intentional. The leer was unmistakable and the flushed nose and cheeks were not a good sign either. 

“Have we met before?” Judging by the accent, his native language was also German. “I think we have.”

“I don’t think so,” she packed her powder case and straightened her back, already predicting the conversation that would inevitably follow would not please her. "Excuse me." 

When she tried to rise from her seat, he instantly covered her hand and wrist with his, pinning them to the table and not allowing her to go. There was no choice but to sit back down again.

“Sebastian is a man of good taste,” he murmured. “But sometimes he's too....” he trailed off, as if trying to find the right word.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone," he said knowingly, staring deliberately at her cleavage. "What a striking young woman you are. Beautiful dress. Would love to take it off and see those curves underneath."

Stella glanced around to avoid showing him how put off she was, trying to restrain herself from saying or doing something that could land her in trouble. 

"I know you’ll be free tonight," he continued, his pudgy hand moving on top of hers attempting some sort of caress. "No intermediaries, just me and you. You treat me good, I reward you well. What do you say?”

“You must be mistaking me for someone else.” 

“Ah, there you are!” 

The chat was interrupted by Sebastian, who seemingly materialised at their side. There was a split moment in which his eyes flicked between them and the two hands on the table and the older man removed his, smiling back at the driver. 

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Sebastian addressed her. “I’d like you to meet someone, will you come with me, if you don’t mind?” 

“Of course."

She shot up from her chair even more peeved after she caught him winking at the other guy. They were obviously mates. Leading the way without further word, they were almost at the foyer of the venue, so far they walked, when he finally made an attempt at stopping her. 

“Stella, wait. Was he-?”

“Yes,” she clenched her fists and pivoted on the spot to face him. 

He groaned and put the palm of his hand on his forehead. “No…I’m so, so sorry. It’s my fault.”  
  
“It’s fine, it won’t be the first time, it won’t be the last.” Unimpressed with his reaction, she continued. “Usually they don’t know who I am and don’t offer me cash, but that’s cool. Cheers for trying to get me business, I suppose?”  
  
“No, please, that’s not... I can explain that."

"Let's be frank, you don't have to."

"But I want to. He is the one who told me about your agency and put me in contact with them. He was asking about you so I told him. I never thought he’d do that!” He put on a more determined expression. “I will talk to him and ask him to apologise-”

“Absolutely not. I’d rather not look at his face again, thank you.” 

“Okay.” He placed his hand on her upper arm after some hesitation. “I apologise. Really. I won't leave you alone again.”

Stella could certainly look after herself, in her opinion, there was no need for babysitting. And anger at the situation somehow felt hypocritical to her too, if she was perfectly honest... but she couldn't help it, it was an instinctive reaction and it still turned her stomach to see what she’d been reduced to. Being objectified wasn't a novelty for her nor, sadly, the majority of women. Ever since she had entered this sex work world, though, unwanted sexual advances had gone from a common occurrence to, simply put, a part of the deal. And no matter how often she faced them, the truth was that it never got any better or easier. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there," she finally said. It was clear he’d just made an excuse to interrupt what was happening. There was no point making a fuss anymore, not when it wouldn’t be long until the night was over anyway; best to get over it quickly and end the job on a positive note. She needed a good review from him. "No, I didn’t appreciate that man’s behaviour. I should've told him to fuck off but it's a small world." He was nodding in understanding and as he was about to speak she added, "And for the love of god stop apologising, please.”

They returned to their table just as the ceremony was about to restart.

Sebastian had been right about one thing: the event was pretty tedious and not knowing any of the involved didn’t help. Zoning out, her focus started shifting from the stage to his profile. He was sitting at an angle in front of her, a little slouched on the chair and exchanging the occasional comment with Kimi Raikkonen, so she could look at him unreservedly. His mouth looked too big on his face but the blond scruffy facial hair disguised it a little and his nose was perfect. She hated her own, with its tip slightly upturned, and people often told her it was cute, but she couldn't agree. 

His hair was thinning a little for someone his age and the locks at the front, lighter in colour, seemed undecided between settling for waves or rebellious curls. His best feature was without any doubt his eyes. Even at an angle she could see them sparkle. They were a pretty shade of blue but most of all, he was very expressive. Probably a terrible poker player.

Sebastian turned back to her and she quickly swerved the direction of her gaze to the stage, pretending only to return his attention. He sat back properly again.

No matter how little she knew about him, it had been enough to make her wonder what took a man like him to act the way he had, hiring an escort under a million clauses only to dismiss her straight away after they met. Normally Stella cared little for her clients' lives or motivations, but overall, this was a bit of a special situation. An enigma that wasn’t perhaps for her to crack, though. 

The awards ceremony soon came to an end and as everybody started to socialise freely, she took the opportunity to go to the toilets. By coincidence, she found Natasha in front of the large mirror when she came out of the stall.

“How is it going?”

Retouching her lipstick, her flatmate waited for the other occupant next to them to leave before replying. “Have a feeling I’ll have an early night. Either Genie’s got some magic pills or it’ll be over before it starts, he’s drunk already. Old age and alcohol don’t make a good match... You? My god, he’s one of the drivers. Who would’ve guessed?” 

“Shh, I’ll tell you later. But early night for me, too.” Stella dried her hands and fixed her V-neckline again, as Natasha sent her an inquiring look. “I don’t think he wants to do anything.” She lowered her voice further before adding, “it’s all a tad strange, I’ll be honest.”

“So he just wanted a beard? I thought you said he wasn’t gay. Is he nice at least? I saw you laughing.”

Stella shrugged. “He’s sweet.” 

“You have to tell me later. Genie is always a lot of fun but tonight I’d swap with you in a heartbeat.” Sly eyes met Stella’s in the mirror. “I bet yours has no trouble to get it up.”

She hadn’t even considered that option. “You know what? Who the fuck knows?”

They exited the restrooms snickering together and Natasha walked away, leaving Stella to search for her own date. She wasn’t sure what the plan for the rest of the evening was, now that the awards part was over. Turned out he was still in the same place, but literally cornered by three other people now. From what she could see, at least one of them had a Ferrari logo on his jacket. Sebastian’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and he was frowning a little. He acknowledged her but continued nodding at the guy in uniform with a strained smile. 

She sashayed up to the group and slid an arm around his waist, snuggling to his side and kissing his cheek. 

“There you are, darling, I looked all over for you.” She spoke loud enough to catch everyone's attention, employing a strong, posh accent and a suggestive tone. "You naughty boy," she pouted, tapping the tip of his nose once with her index finger. "You told me you wouldn't leave me alone and then you disappear. What am I going to do with you?" His cheeks were turning a hilarious bright shade of pink and she struggled not to laugh as she turned to the rest of the group. “Am I interrupting?”  
  
“Of course you're not, never." Sebastian instantly replied, an arm going around her shoulders. Starting to steer her away, he spoke back to the others in mock wisdom. "Sorry, you can’t leave a woman waiting, you know how it is!”  
  
She slapped his shoulder playfully while the others laughed and that was it, they were off. They had barely turned the corner to a hallway when they bursted out chortling, Sebastian bending to the waist before turning to her still grinning. He still looked a little flustered. 

“Thank you. What gave it away?”

“Well, you looked like you’d been dragged into a meeting with the boss on a Friday afternoon, you know, five minutes before the end of your work day.”

“Not far from the truth! Was it that obvious, uh?”

"You're very transparent, I'm sorry to say."

He widened his eyes. "But how can you say that when you just met me?"

"Exactly."

He placed his hands in his pockets, rolling on the balls of his feet. “So that’s how it is? We have each other's backs?" He really did have a very engaging smile.

“Partners for the night, it’s what you proposed. You know,” she recalled with another giggle. "I was gonna snog you proper in front of them but I thought it might be taking it too far so I backed off last second."

He gave her another amused expression and for a moment it appeared like he was going to make some comment but he didn’t. The large exit ahead seemed to lead to the garden in the back, which had been visible through the glassy walls of the venue, and he motioned to it. “Wanna go outside for a walk?” 

The lawn wasn’t large, with only a few sinuous stone pathways. A little like Monte Carlo itself: rich and sumptuous but on a very small scale at the same time. The view of the Mediterranean on a hot July night, with all the glittering city lights in the background was nothing short of stunning. There were more attendees outside as well, probably just to smoke, but it was a low rustle coming from a bush that caught Stella’s attention, and gave away a pair of green cat eyes near the path they were walking past. It made her smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but I’ve been wondering about it all night,” Sebastian started. “Where are you from? I can’t recognise the accent. It’s British but sounds different in certain words, so I’m not sure if it’s only because you live in London.”

“I live in London? Who said that?”

“You did,” he pointed at her confidently. “At dinner. You told Minttu at dinner something about aviation schools in London.”

She scoffed. “Oh, that. As if I would share information about myself coming here to, well. No one does that, it’d be silly. It was all just a cover story.” It had been bad enough to mention something about her normal life but she couldn’t believe he’d caught up on such a small detail too, which she barely remembered having mentioned and was more of a general comment anyway. 

But he wasn’t having it, staring at her intensely. “You’re lying! You said the truth before and now you’re lying.” 

“I’m not lying, I made it up. It’s not true.” Neck and ears starting to grow hot, no matter how hard she tried not to give it away, Stella was at least grateful for the dimly lit garden to shield her face from his scrutiny. 

Sebastian laughed and looked away. “You didn’t make it up, but that’s okay, I won’t ask if you don’t want to tell me. What about the accent, can you tell me about that? Or is it also supposed to be a secret?” 

After some consideration, she figured there was no harm in answering truthfully. “I spent part of my childhood in South Africa.”

“Ah! So it’s not British, it’s South African."

"It sounds weird, I know."

"No, no, I like your accent. So you grew up in South Africa and then moved to England then or..?"

"You ask too many questions," she chuckled.

"But I'm curious."

A short man with greying hair was hurriedly coming in their direction along the narrow path, phone pressed to his ear, and he lit up at the sight of the German driver.

"Hey, Seb!" Sebastian greeted him too, both patting each other’s backs affectionately. The other guy, older, was undeniably English. "Will you ever spare us the long speeches?"

"Give your guys a better car next year and you won't have to put up with them anymore."

"Little shit," he laughed. "Kids doing well?"

"Fine. Brilliant! All good at yours?"

"Excellent. Wife's bored out of her mind tonight, though,” he grimaced and pointed at the building. “I have to go. Enjoy the rest of the evening, you two!" He waved at Stella too and carried on towards the venue, resuming his phone chat.

"But do you know everyone?"The question was out as soon as he was gone. 

"That's Christian, he used to be my team principal when I drove for RedBull."

“He looked like a gent." The small chat she overheard was still in her mind. "So you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” 

It was the soft, tender expression on his face that gave it away, the way his eyes crinkled. 

“Best thing in the world?”

“Best thing in the world.”

Stella knew she probably shouldn’t, but she did anyway. “And the mother?”

He was fiddling with his hands and there was a smile on his lips but this time it was painfully clear how it didn’t reach his eyes. “Divorced.” 

She almost regretted asking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry...” 

“It’s fine. It’s not like it’s a secret.”

Didn't necessarily mean he would be eager to talk about it, it was obvious. The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle began to arrange themselves on the board. They walked in silence after that until the black cat from earlier made another appearance, this time boldly crossing the pathway.

“Oh my god, look at that…” Carefully stepping towards the animal, Stella crouched down and extended a hand. The cat meowed at her before slowly sauntering towards her, tail high in the air. “Look how precious! Hello, handsome! Are you a boy or a girl? You’re a boy, aren’t you?" 

Sebastian’s hands remained firm in his pockets and he kept his distance. 

“Yes, you’re a boy. You beautiful thing, look at that shiny hair… who feeds you?” She glanced back over her shoulder as she petted him. “Don’t tell me you’re superstitious?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, I see. You're one of _them_ .” The cat was now purring. “People who don’t like cats are _not_ to be trusted.”

“We respect each other. Mutually.”

The cat suddenly tensed, bolting towards the grass and Stella stood up, wrapping her arms around herself after a little shudder.

“Are you cold? Here, take this.” Taking off his jacket, he put it over her shoulders before she could refuse. A pleasant fragrance surrounded her as she was enveloped in warmth. 

"Thank you. It got quite chilly all of a sudden, I suppose it's because we're near the water."

“Let’s get back inside then. I'm not planning to stay for much longer so whenever you want to go, I'll have someone take you back."

She shook her head. "It's alright, it’s your call, we can leave together. I came for the whole night."

"For the whole night? I'm flattered."

 _Cheeky_. 

"Don't be. As you may remember, you made sure I had no idea who you were."

"You know now." His lips had turned into a slight pout and he gazed up at her from under long eyelashes. He was probably just being playful and she knew better than that but stupidly the charm still worked on her.

"Are you actually flirting with me?"

"What if I am?"

"You know that doesn’t make any sense in our circumstances, right?” 

He opened his arms. "Oh come on, but it is more fun like this."

“You literally fired me five minutes after we met." 

"I didn't fire you, I said you could go home. And you decided to stay."

She gaped for a moment, speechless, and he laughed. "Come on, I'm joking. Am I allowed to get you a drink before you leave? Water doesn’t count."

There was now music booming inside the venue and they stood by the busy bar, waiting for their drinks, with a very blond, blue-eyed boy with whom Sebastian seemed to be friends with. There was something familiar about his face although Stella couldn’t remember ever seeing him. 

“Hey!”

An enthusiastic Kimi Raikkonen, who seemed to be wobbling a little on his feet, joined in, bending over the counter with an arm in the air signalling to the bartender. He was a lot more talkative than during dinner, always in the same monotone register. He might also have been the only person in the entire evening that had treated Stella completely normally and without furtive glances. It wasn’t just refreshing, but also very much appreciated.

When Sebastian passed her the espresso martini she ordered, he also mouthed “ _he’s drunk_ ” behind him while motioning with his head to his fellow driver.

“You don’t say… Cheers!” 

They toasted, Sebastian nearly dropping his glass when the Finn reached over to him and gripped his arm tightly to say something in his ear. The blond boy, Mick she learnt in the meanwhile he was called, exchanged a look with her, apparently also very entertained.

Tough Love by Avicii started playing and Stella started humming aloud, swaying to the Indian inspired melody. 

“Oh, this one’s from the new album, it’s such a tune. I can hardly believe he’s gone, he was a genius.” She scooted next to Sebastian. “I thought the party would move on to somewhere else?”

“No, there’s a DJ,” Mick explained. “They were just clearing the main hall.” 

Sebastian observed her. “You wanna stay?”

She bit her lip. “I love dancing. Oh, you’re pulling a face.”

“No, I’m not. Really!” 

“Clubbing isn’t your thing, I suppose?”

“Just depends on the music.”

She jabbed his ribs with a finger. “Well, guess what, now I’m staying and so are you. Come on, just a couple of tracks. Can’t let that dad dancing get rusty.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that a challenge? Because I’ll give it my best. Or my worst, depends on the perspective, no?” 

Kimi and Mick waved them away, claiming they’d join later and so they went, drinks in hand, to find a DJ set on the stage where the awards ceremony took place and a lot of people already there under flashing LED lights. Over the speakers, Party Rock Anthem began with a number of dancers in sparkly, skimpy outfits entering the stage, and she quickly grabbed Sebastian’s hand to pull him into the middle of the dancefloor, already moving to it.

“ _Party Rock_!” 

He wasn't terrible after all and they laughed together and bopped along to a balanced mix of electronic beats and some more popular, mainstream music. They were having fun on their own but then more people he knew started gravitating towards each other and gathering in the same space and it didn’t take long until Stella realised she was surrounded by other drivers. 

There were some attempts at flirting from guys joining out of nowhere, like David Coulthard who she spotted a mile away as being a terrible sleaze, but while sometimes being creative was a necessity because many didn’t take a no for an answer, this time there was no need to. She could simply get rid of unwanted company by using Sebastian as shield. It was magical, they backed off instantly and soon no one approached to hit on her.

Everyone was soaked in alcohol, including herself, never without a glass in her hand either with drink after drink being offered to her. Kimi was still the one in worse shape, but standing proudly, just hanging on to Sebastian’s neck while his wife was nowhere to be seen, the two joined at the hip with their dinner jackets long gone. 

"Girl, where did you learn your party dance moves?" The Australian with curly hair and a goofy grin who’d been in their group for a while and that she was sure was a driver too, was irresistible. It was impossible to refuse when he reached out his hands for her, inviting her to dance with him. "Hop on the honey badger train, all aboard!"

They sang together and paired up for some choreography for everyone’s entertainment, while the guys were trying to outdo each other. And after a track where they lined up side by side, Stella holding up her dress not to trip on it as they went through the steps, the professional dancers ended up pulling the two of them to the stage next to the DJ. Her eyes easily found Sebastian’s in the crowd below; he might have been with Kimi for a good part of the night by now but she was well aware he’d been watching her all along. And when she stepped down from the stage, he was right there too, catching her when she collapsed in his arms exuberantly. They held on to each other, just laughing and trying not to stumble as they swayed one side to the other. 

There was no telling if it was night or day and she’d forgotten which city or country she was. Dancing with abandon with her arms in the air, surrounded by a hot and sweaty crowd, Stella got a glimpse of Lewis bumping and grinding with a couple of hired dancers in rhinestone bikinis on top of a table and Daniel remained next to the DJ, but with headphones now too, the two working up the audience together. A loud cheer signalled the entrance of a line of girls who started weaving through the crowd carrying champagne bottles with sparklers, Max Verstappen and a few others immediately following them. One of the younger boys, a tall one, had already lost his shirt.

It might have been the best night out she was having in a long time. No drama, just people having fun together, letting alcohol and music run freely through their veins. She would watch a race someday and reminisce how once upon a time she had been to a Formula 1 gala and had spent the night dancing with the best race drivers in the world.

The thought made her laugh and she opened her eyes to find Sebastian beaming at her, blue eyes twinkling before he spontaneously hugged her again, his hands burning on her waist. 

The beat of the music pumped inside her chest as they moved together and she closed her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Party Rock Anthem - LMFAO
> 
> _  
> Party Rock!  
>  Yeah  
> Wooo!  
> Let's go!  
> Party rock is in the house tonight  
> Everybody just have a good time (yeah)  
> And we gon' make you lose your mind (woo)  
> Everybody just have a good time (clap)  
> Party rock is in the house tonight (oh)  
> Everybody just have a good time (I can feel it baby)  
> And we gon' make you lose your mind (yeaH)  
> We just wanna see you  
> Shake that!  
> In the club, party rock  
> Looking for your girl? She on my jock  
> Non stop when we in the spot  
> Booty moving weight like she on the block  
> Where the drank? I gots to know  
> Tight jeans, tattoo, 'cause I'm rock and roll  
> Half-black, half-white, domino  
> Gainin' money, Oprah, dough  
> Yo!! I'm running through these hoes like Drano  
> I got that devilish flow rock and roll no halo, we party rock!  
> Yeah, that's the crew that I'm repping  
> On the rise to the top, no lead in our zeppelin, hey  
> Party rock is in the house tonight (woo)  
> Everybody just have a good time (yeah)  
> And we gon' make you lose your mind  
> Everybody just have a good time (let's go)  
> Party rock is in the house tonight  
> Everybody just have a good time (I can feel it baby)  
> And we gon' make you lose your mind  
> We just wanna see you  
> Shake that!  
> Every day I'm shufflin'  
> Shufflin', shufflin'  
> Step up fast and be the first girl to make me throw this cash  
> We get money don't be mad, now stop  
> Hatin' is bad  
> One more shot for us (another round!)  
> Please fill up my cup (don't mess around!)  
> We just wanna see (you shake it now!)  
> Now you wanna be (you're naked now!)  
> Get up get down put your hands up to the sound  
> Get up get down put your hands up to the sound  
> Get up get down put your hands up to the sound  
> Put your hands up to the sound  
> Put your hands up to the sound  
> Get up, get up, get up, get up  
> Get up, get up, get up, get up  
> Get up, put your hands up to the sound, to the sound  
> Put your hands up, put your hands up, put your hands up, put your hands up  
> Party rock is in the house tonight (woo)  
> Everybody just have a good time (put your hands up) (yeah)  
> And we gon' make you lose your mind (put your hands up)  
> Everybody just have a good good good time  
> Oh oh (put your hands up)  
> Oh oh (I can feel it babe)  
> Oh oh (put your hands up)  
> Oh oh (put your hands up)  
> Shake that  
> Every day I'm shufflin'  
> Put your put your  
> Put your put your (yeah)  
> Put your put your (ooh)  
> Put your put your  
> Put your hands up  
> Your hands up  
> Put your hands up  
> _


	3. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to everyone who is reading! :)

Standing barefoot on the lawn at the exit of the venue, Stella watched the starry night sky, letting the Mediterranean breeze carry some clearance over to her mind. She couldn’t be bothered with high heels anymore, holding them in her hand instead, but most of all, she was frankly surprised she could still manage to stand in an upright position. 

Sebastian also seemed slightly more sober now, although his face still looked a little hot and sweaty, and he was holding the phone to his ear as he placed a call. 

“I was going to drive you myself but that’s out of the question after all that alcohol, we’ll get someone to take you. Where are you staying?”

An Alfa Romeo pulled over to collect them and they slid onto the leather back seat with all the grace of someone who’d spent the whole night partying. Chattering and giggling for the entirety of the ride, the car had been parked for a few minutes in front of her hotel when the pair noticed they had arrived at their destination. Sebastian insisted on accompanying her to her room and dismissed the driver, since his own hotel was within walking distance. 

The sterile lights and quietness of the hotel as they made their way across the foyer, Stella still barefoot and wearing Sebastian’s jacket, came as a sudden reminder that the night was rapidly nearing its end. Conversation dwindled in the lift and for some reason Stella’s heart was pounding as they walked down the corridor to her room. She unlocked the door and finally returned his jacket. Leaning against the doorframe in the bright light of the hallway, she was all too aware of her revealing neckline, of the form fitting gown clinging to her silhouette.  
  
“I know that wasn’t exactly the point of it but...” She wasn’t even sure where to start. “I really want to thank you because I had so much fun tonight. Usually it's not… not like this. You were a perfect gent.”  
  
“Good.” He nodded, pursing his lips. They were a little chapped and Stella tightened her hold on the clutch bag, fighting a sudden urge of running her thumb along the fullness, smoothen them out. “I’m glad you did. My pleasure,” he added.

With his hands in his pockets, the shirt unbuttoned at the collar and the undone bow tie hanging loosely around his neck, Sebastian looked so much lighter than before, almost boyish. 

"Glad you stayed, too."

"Yeah, I'm very happy I did, it was a good party. I… I had a blast, too."

She nodded and there was an awkward silence. 

“It was nice to meet you,” he looked down at his feet. “Take care.”

“You too.”  
  
He lifted a hand in farewell with a small smile and slowly turned around, making his way back to the lifts. 

Tossing her shoes to the floor, Stella closed the door and instantly leaned on it, a lump in her throat. A strange emptiness took over, the adrenaline and excitement from just a few minutes earlier quickly fading. It felt like the night had somehow been cut short abruptly. 

Of course that the one time a client seemed a decent guy - and in this line of business this was as decent as it would ever get - she was not required to do anything. But that was the way things worked. The good ones didn't really do this sort of thing, it was always the wankers. 

She wouldn't have minded doing this for him. At the start of the gala maybe not, but now there was no doubt in Stella’s mind that he wanted more. She could see the longing in his eyes at the party, or in the way his hands lingered on her body every time they touched. He had bought the agency’s services after all and had taken his time negotiating the terms so it wasn’t as if the notion of sleeping with the girl he picked had never crossed his mind, no matter what he told her at the beginning of the night. 

All it took was making that move so why didn't he? She'd given him signs. It had happened naturally, it hadn’t been forced, and any other man would have leaped at the chance. 

Maybe she should have been more straightforward before Sebastian left. Ask him whether he had changed his mind or not. Perhaps let him know that even though she was perfectly happy with how the arrangement turned out - and normally that would have been a hundred percent true - she was open to any adjustments if he wished.  
  
The knock on the door wasn’t loud but in the middle of the night and with it coming so unexpectedly, she jolted away, only just managing not to let out a shriek. 

She swung the door open immediately... and there he was. Standing on the other side as if he hadn’t left at all. 

Sebastian’s eyes met hers fully but he was unreadable to her. There was a sense of expectation in the air, as she waited for him to say something, anything but it was as though he was still searching for the right words. And then his eyes dropped to her mouth. 

They were lunging towards each other before Stella realised what was happening. Mouths collided sloppily, with a hunger that she hadn’t anticipated, arms around each other, his fingers digging in her waist and her hands wrapped around his neck, as if the world was about to end.

He pushed her into the room, she tugged him along with her and Stella was kicking the door closed while they stumbled inside in the dark. Wrapped around each other, they shuffled a little too eagerly, or perhaps with alcohol still largely commanding their motions, and she huffed when they tripped on his jacket that had somehow ended on the floor and her back slammed against the wall.

"Scheiße… sorry. I’m sorry!"

She couldn't care less and reached for his lips again, as he tried to speak nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this, I-”

“Shhh, don’t say anything... don't say anything, it doesn’t matter…" 

Cradling his face in her hands, she drew him closer for another kiss, their bodies flush against each other’s, his hands on the small of her back pulling her to him as if he wanted to fuse them right on the spot. 

When he started peppering small kisses along her jawline and sliding down to her neck, she opened her eyes and breathed out properly for what felt like the first time in several minutes. His fingers were trailing up the back of her head, burying themselves in her hair and she reached up to remove the hair pins and undo the top knot. Long brown locks cascaded over her shoulders and Sebastian ran a hand on her hair, his lips slightly parted as he took a moment to gaze at her. Dipping his face to her collarbone again, he pushed his hips forward against her with a little groan. 

She patted his shoulder breathlessly. “Sebastian… Sebastian, I have a roommate. Not here.”

It didn’t really stop him, he simply moved upwards, making her shiver as his lips brushed on a sensitive spot on her neck. “I have a room too. And no roommates. Handy, isn’t it?”

“How far is it?”

“Five minutes down the road. I’ll carry you if I have to...” 

She chuckled. “No need to, let me just get a pair of comfy shoes.” 

Sebastian stepped back slightly, enough to give her cleavage a pointed look. “Just the shoes."

She pulled him by the chin, inhaling as they shared one, two loud kisses. “Just the shoes, the dress stays.” 

“Yeah. For now.”

It took them a while to disentangle from each other long enough to be able to leave. 

Thankfully, Sebastian had not been exaggerating when he said he was staying nearby. They only had to cross the road down, towards the marina, and walk along the avenue for a couple of minutes, until he grabbed her hand and towed her inside the luxurious foyer of a boutique hotel very close to the Yacht Club. She recognised Elvis’ cover of Fever playing in the background.

Sebastian’s suite was spacious, decorated in pleasant pastel tones, and the comfortable living room area connected to a private terrace that overlooked the dazzling harbour. 

The door behind her clicked quietly. Stella could almost feel his gaze burning on her bare back, down to her bottom. Turning around, she found the German driver leaning against the door, with his hands behind his back, his head tipped back as his eyes roamed over her body. Closer and closer she walked towards him, Sebastian swallowing as she approached. Her hand cupped the side of his face and a finger slid from his jaw down to his collarbone, towards his chest until it caught the shirt’s button. She undid it, leaning for the lightest of kisses, just hovering and barely touching his lips. They weren't chapped nor dry anymore, just soft and plump.

“Everything okay?”

Replying by claiming her mouth again, he circled her waist with his arms and his hands covered her backside, squeezing as he yanked her to him. They dragged their feet across the room until they reached the side of the bed, his fingers searching for the zipper on the back of her dress first and finding it on the side. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he slid his hands up her legs under the dress, placing a kiss on her stomach. He reached up and, slowly, pulled the shimmery fabric down her shoulders, baring her chest. Stella ran her fingers through his hair with a smile, watching him gazing up at her with big eyes, his hands almost shaking as they moved to fondle her. 

The gown was completely discarded, leaving her in nothing but a small piece of black lace lingerie. He took control of her mouth again, his tongue swiping along her bottom lip hotly and they landed on the bed together. 

Cupping her breasts with both hands, Sebastian buried his face in her chest and she groaned softly, pushing up into him and holding his head. Her nails scratched at the back of his neck as he left loud, wet kisses down her stomach. His thumbs were already playing with the lacy material of her knickers. 

"Beautiful." His voice was so husky. "You are so beautiful…"

His lips pressed down against her underwear and Stella gasped softly, suddenly craving nothing more than no layers in between them. A finger sneaked underneath the black lace and he hooked it in the fabric, nuzzling along the hem of her knickers. He pulled them down.

Stopping only to lift her up enough to strip it off her completely, Sebastian resumed by settling between her thighs. Dropping small, gentle kisses on her at first, he ripped a moan from her when the tip of his tongue slowly licked in an upwards motion. It sparked a shudder down her spine.

He delved deeper, sucking gently and teasing, constantly looking up at her as if to check her reactions. When she sighed, he glanced up again.

"I think you like this," he teased.

"But _why_ are you talking… don't stop now...”

"I haven’t said a word." 

She could see his smirk and while his head was shamefully out of reach, his arm across her stomach was not. Gripping his wrist in a hopefully painful enough way to make her point clear, she insisted. "Less talking and more- _oh_ …"

Another long stroke of tongue and she fisted the bedsheet. His hand on her hip pressed down stronger to hold her down when he found with another little jab a spot that had her jerking. And then there was no more talking. He repeated it again and again, unrelentlessly, closing his lips on her. It steadily escalated until she was convulsing, biting her lip sharply when her orgasm hit, and she was pushing him away, curling on the bed because she couldn’t take it anymore.

Propped on his elbow alongside her with the smuggest grin and generally looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Sebastian drew slow circles on her skin with the tips of his fingers while she caught her breath. 

"I think _I'm_ gonna hire _you_ …" 

"Yeah? Because I’m free if you want more. Like, right now." 

Stella rolled on her side to face him, meeting his eyes as she languidly arched her back and bent her knee, bringing a thigh up. She glanced at his crotch. Apart from the untucked, half unbuttoned shirt from where blond curls of chest hair peeked, he was definitely overdressed, in her opinion. She reached out with one hand but without touching him; she could almost see his pulse quickening. 

"Don’t be shy. I don't suppose you're feeling a little uncomfortable with all those clothes still on…?" 

Over the fabric, she cupped the bulge in his trousers while they worked on undressing him and he exhaled audibly, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw slacking. 

"Mmm, nice. You're so hard already... Take this off, let me take it all off."

There was definitely some relief on his face when the underwear came down. Sebastian pushed her down on the bed again, moving on top and her hands ran over his back all the way down to his bottom. She groped his buttocks hard while he rubbed himself against her, one of his hands sneaking to stroke at her inner thigh. It moved further up between her legs and Stella moaned when a finger brushed against her in a light caress. He touched her more purposely.

"You're so, so wet." 

Letting herself go limp, she just stroked his arm idly while his fingers traced her intimately. He pushed one in slowly, nuzzling the side of her neck. He slid down her body again and Stella closed her eyes, just the heat of his breath on her enough to turn her on further. She grinded against him when his other hand slid down from her hipbone and his thumb found the exact spot where she most wanted him. 

He lowered his mouth on her again, his fingers curling inside her and she couldn't believe how aroused he was making her, his movements slower now but no less precise, achieving the right balance of teasing her madly but giving her enough pleasure at the same, keeping her on the edge. Stella just wanted to push into his face and scream.

She did scream when she came again, but her arm stifled most of the sound when she bit on it.

When the lustful fog lifted, Stella was determined to shatter him into pieces. "Your turn now. I want to make you feel good, let me touch you..."

"My turn? Again? I feel like it's always my turn," Sebastian said playfully, his voice low and deep. He let her switch their positions on the bed. 

Straddling him while he sat back against the pillows, her hands rubbed up and down his chest and she covered him in soft kisses everywhere. Unsurprisingly, he was very wired up already and incredibly sensitive to every touch.

“You look so good... come here.” 

It briefly crossed her mind how she'd wondered in the days that led up to the job for tonight - and after they were introduced - how there might be something he’d wish to hide or some sort of embarrassing situation going on. Ludicrous now to recall, as she appreciated his body. He was fit and perfectly proportionate and average, in the good way, in every sense.

“What do you like?” 

Stella wanted at least a tip to give him a fantastic blowjob, he definitely deserved that. But the part of Sebastian’s brain that enabled thought or speech seemed to have shut down already, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as she stroked him firmly. He swallowed thickly and seemed so close to falling apart at the seams, she had to bite her lip to contain a giggle. Maybe he had drunk too much. 

“Or I suppose we’ll find out as we go, shall we?”

There were definitely no protests when she pulled her hair to one side and went down on him. Sucking the tip gently and dragging the inside of her upper lip across, she prompted a groan out of him and his hand shot up to the side of his head, gripping at his own hair. She took her sweet time, fondling him and sliding her mouth up and down on him, her hand stroking where she didn't reach. He was twitching after a while, placing a hand on top of her head.

“Please... please, you have to stop, I can't..."

She released him with a little popping sound and switched her attention to his thighs, her fingers splayed over him. "God, you have _amazing_ thighs…" Stella inched her way up, letting her whole body rub on his skin. His muscles were hard with tension all over. "Tell me what you want…" She purred in his ear. "How do you want me?"

Sebastian growled at that, sliding an arm around her and flipping her over. Limbs entwined and bodies sweaty, torrid heat enveloped them as their mouths moved together feverishly. He was definitely displaying more self control again and Stella wondered whether he’d just been in need of a thorough warm-up. 

They had to stop so he could get a condom but quickly enough he was kneeling in the space between her legs. She could feel his thighs on the back of hers as he spread his knees apart and reached for her waist. Using the other hand to guide himself, they moaned in unison when he pushed in. It was all slow hip thrusts at first as he slid in and they adjusted.

"You can push more, go deeper…" She shifted around a little to make it easier. "Yeah, more, go, go."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I like it that way, you're almost… _there._ "

"Yeah?" 

He chuckled but his eyes were running hungrily over her body. It felt like he’d hit a million nerve endings when he rolled his hips. 

“Yes…” She whimpered. “Just slow now… yeah… like that. Oh, I like you. You're a quick learner, aren’t you?"

He grinned. "I try to. For the important things." 

He increased the pace once they were comfortable. Properly ramming into her, his thumbs dug just below her hip bones as he gripped her firmly.

"You feel so good... fuck, you feel amazing."

He was almost speaking to himself but Stella didn't care because he was doing it right, the pleasure overwhelming, and he felt incredible inside her. Heady with sensation, she held tight onto him as if he was gonna push them through the mattress, their heads together, Sebastian breathing heavy in her ear. He kept the rhythm up until nearly the end of it, a couple of final snaps more intense to finish. 

They lay on their back side by side panting, skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Sebastian spoke first.

"That…" 

"...was fucking amazing."

They giggled and he rubbed at his face. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I think I got… carried away."

She laughed again. "No, you were fine. Actually, more than fine. It's gonna be a good kind of sore tomorrow. Christ, you're fit.”

"You are not so bad yourself. That was incredible. Your body is incredible, you're so beautiful."

She bent over him to give him a quick peck on the mouth, her hair falling over him like a curtain. "That's the post orgasm bliss talking.” She tapped the tip of his nose playfully. Afterglow or not, he did have a very cute nose. “I'm going to use your bathroom."

Her legs were wobbly when she jumped to the floor. _Christ,_ what did just happen? 

Deliberately taking her time, she made sure she was as silent as possible. When she returned to the bedroom, Sebastian was sprawled in the same position. She could see his chest rising and falling softly under the moonlight, his head dropped to the side. 

Snatching her dress from the floor, Stella threw it on, zipping it up while she collected the rest of her belongings.

And, as quiet as a mouse, she left.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fever - ELVIS PRESLEY
> 
> Never know how much I love you  
> Never know how much I care  
> When you put your arms around me  
> I get a fever that's so hard to bear
> 
> You give me fever when you kiss me  
> Fever when you hold me tight  
> Fever in the morning  
> Fever all through the night
> 
> Sun lights up the daytime  
> Moon lights up the night  
> I light up when you call my name  
> And you know I'm gonna treat you right
> 
> You give me fever when you kiss me  
> Fever when you hold me tight  
> Fever in the morning  
> Fever all through the night
> 
> Ev'rybody's got the fever  
> That is something you all know  
> Fever isn't such a new thing  
> Fever started long ago
> 
> Romeo loved Juliet  
> Juliet she felt the same  
> When he put his arms around her  
> He said 'Julie, baby, you're my flame  
> Thou giv-est fever when we kisseth  
> Fever with the flaming youth  
> Fever I'm on fire  
> Fever yea I burn for sooth'
> 
> Captain Smith and Pocahantas  
> Had a very mad affair  
> When her daddy tried to kill him  
> She said 'Daddy, o, don't you dare  
> He gives me fever with his kisses  
> Fever when he holds me tight  
> Fever, I'm his misses  
> Oh daddy, won't you treat him right'
> 
> Now you've listened to my story  
> Here's the point that I have made  
> Cats were born to give chicks fever  
> Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade  
> They give you fever when you kiss them  
> Fever if you live and learn  
> Fever till you sizzle  
> What a lovely way to burn  
> What a lovely way to burn  
> What a lovely way to burn


	4. Voulez-Vous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monte Carlo is very small, Stella learns quickly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is reading, let me know what you think so far!

“I can’t believe you’re working out now, it’s so early? And you weren’t here when I came back.”  
  
“Nope, arrived later.”

Natasha leaned on the doorway of the bathroom and yawned, while Stella, head down, laced up her trainers in the middle of the room. 

“Still stayed up for longer than I thought I would. Magic pills,” the blonde Russian continued with an eye roll. “I’ve had worse. You? How was it with the gay driver? Thought you said he didn’t want anything.”

“As if.”  
  
“They’re all the same. One track minded,” Natasha yawned again and then spoke from inside the bathroom. “Hired by a Formula 1 driver, unbelievable. You must tell me more. But later because I’m going back to sleep now.”

Stella mumbled a noncommittal reply and finished putting her hair up in a ponytail, grabbing her phone and the keycard. 

The sun was hiding behind the clouds when she stepped outside; it was nice to have some cool air replacing the scorching heat of the previous day. Also good to clear one’s mind. 

She was having a hard time believing the night before hadn’t just been a glitch, especially after all the fuss over this job. Unsurprisingly, Jenna, her supervisor at the agency, had been very pleased when Stella reported back from her hotel room. 

What happened wasn’t really work, though. Or at least work had never been like that before... What happened was that she’d hooked up with someone who hired her because she'd wanted it. There had been no need for a performance or a role to play - no vixen or docile, airhead girl; no submissive or dominating partner. Her cover had been stripped right from the start and she’d allowed herself to be _herself_. 

In the back of her mind, an annoying voice scolded her for making such a mistake, considering the utter luck of having been relieved of her obligations at the start of the evening. The sole purpose of staying was to ensure nothing would go wrong, such as a complaint that she didn’t show up, and there was never at any point any intention of blurring the lines between her escort job and her life. Yet, she’d thoughtlessly gone and done just that... 

There were zero regrets, though, and if given the choice, Stella would most likely seize the moment and do everything exactly the same way. At the end of the day, it wasn’t like she’d jump into bed with him again in a heartbeat, was it? Unless he’d reach out to the agency, of course - and she somehow had a feeling he didn’t want to, in which case they would probably never see each other again anyway. 

Feeling the sweat on her back, she jogged a little faster to the sound of Daft Punk in her earbuds, her go-to running soundtrack. Sound body, sound mind. 

Leaving the dense city centre and its chaotic traffic behind, she entered the waterfront promenade. Despite the early hour, the beach was already packed with families and couples, solo goers too, typical of the month of July. 

So distracted Stella was, with the music in her ears blocking much of the surrounding noise, that she failed to notice that someone approached her. And therefore, the arrival at her side, accompanied by a gentle pull on her ponytail, came out of the blue. She halted, startled, ready to lash out. She gasped in shock when she recognised who had joined her. 

Ripped out of her introspective depths, Stella stepped back and everything happened in quick succession: a pair of strong hands suddenly reaching out and yanking her forwards again; a _ding-ding_ sound ringing loudly; some very angry and very loud expletives in French cutting over the music playing in her earbuds; the bike that whizzed past her. And then everything returned to a standstill. 

In front of her, a pair of bright blue eyes was now searching hers intensely. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” 

It took Stella a moment to realise she’d jumped straight into the bike lane where she was almost hit by a passing rider - had Sebastian not reacted so quickly to get her out of their way. He released her shoulders calmly and stepped back. Stella bent at the waist and pulled the earbuds out, hands on her knees. She closed her eyes, catching her breath but most of all gathering her wits. 

_Shit_. 

Stumbling into _him_ was the last thing she needed. Her mind drew a complete blank but she rose to her full height and faced him regardless. She had nearly forgotten how blue his eyes were, with those long, fluffy blond lashes. Like her, the German driver was in workout gear, an oversized faded grey t-shirt and black shorts.

“You left,” he cocked his head to the side, hands on his hips. “You left without saying goodbye.”

Saying goodbye sounded like an excellent plan of action at the moment for Stella. Either that or seeking a hole that would swallow her up. In hindsight, and considering how small Monte Carlo was, jogging on the waterfront promenade hadn’t been the cleverest idea. 

Sebastian was still looking at her expectantly and she snapped. 

“Bloody hell. Really? What the fuck were you expecting?” 

“Not for you to leave. Is this,” he glanced aside, visibly deflating, a frown forming on his face. “Is this a bad time or am I bothering you? Because if I’m bothering you-”

“Wait.” She rolled her eyes, irritated at herself for losing her cool so easily, and took another deep breath. There was no need to be rude, he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m sorry." That he looked a little like a kicked puppy didn’t help. "I didn’t have coffee yet and it’s too early. I… it’s too early.” 

“Okay,” he scratched at the back of his head. “In that case maybe I can join you? We can run together. And then maybe after,” he pointed at her, “coffee?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. She really wasn’t in the mood but at the moment it was more trouble to part ways, it seemed.

“Alright. In silence, please.”

Raising his hands up in a call for peace, Sebastian mimed zipping his mouth shut with his fingers. 

They carried on side by side along the avenue. Stella was in good shape but she could tell he was used to a different rhythm by the way he was visibly forcing himself to slow his step, without breaking a sweat. Against her best judgement, she let her mind drift off to the previous night. By far the most athletic client she’d ever had, and also a lot younger than the average, the German was also a little unlike the men she was normally attracted to. Although not exclusively, most guys she ended up sleeping with were ripped but were more the type that focused on sculpting their bodies and removed body hair for a smoother look, or filled up their bathrooms with the same amount of products (or more) than she did. Despite being in the public eye, Sebastian seemed to be of a different breed. Still exceptionally fit. From what she’d had the chance to see from the previous night, considering they were all dressed formally, so did the other drivers. It was a bit of a surprise.

When she came to a stop with a grimace, hands on her hips, he turned to her gingerly. 

“Okay. You win,” she simply said.

Sebastian’s reaction came in the form of an enthusiastic fist-pump, as if he was celebrating a hard, well-earned victory. 

“But I need a shower first,” she warned.

They were almost reaching his hotel when his phone rang. She couldn’t understand what the conversation was about but judging by the way he was pouting, the news didn’t please Sebastian. 

“I just had my morning schedule changed,” he said once he hung up. “I need to hurry up. Can we make it a lunch date? Are you free?”

The chance for an escape was presented to her on a silver plate. Stella really wasn't very keen on spending more time together. He absolutely _was_ the type that asked questions she didn’t care to answer and the night before had been a perfect one off on its own, with a fitting ending. Why would he want to spoil it? 

However, she couldn’t find it in her to ruthlessly dismiss him and, unable to make up some excuse, she just sighed. He seemed so eager. 

“Okay.”

He was already ahead of her, running backwards and smiling at her. “Meet me at 1pm here in the lobby. Please show up! I know where you’re staying!"

~~/~~

Stella changed outfits two or three times before settling on a pair of denim shorts and a white blouse, and rushed out with her hair down. 

She hadn’t exactly changed her mind - on paper, this was not a good idea. Sure enough they’d hit it off the night before but enjoying someone’s company when out at night at a party and spending time with them in broad daylight was very different. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she had anything important to do and it was just lunch. If things got awkward or at the first sign of alarm, she’d just get rid of him. 

Wasn’t difficult to spot Sebastian in his hotel lobby, the bright red Ferrari shirt and cap a dead giveaway. Together with the jeans and trainers, and the fact that he was with Britta (Stella was now sure she was his personal assistant) and another older man smartly dressed, it probably meant he must have been doing some kind of promotion work. She waited until he saw her and said goodbye to his companions.

"Hi." Sebastian smiled at her warmly and she instantly regretted being so moody earlier that day. "So did you have your coffee?"

She smiled earnestly. “I had two. Just in case.” 

“Oh, good. You’re human again,” he pretended to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “That’s a relief!”

“Oi, I resent that.”

“So did I this morning!” He pointed up. “The rooftop restaurant is nice, but we can go somewhere else if you want?"

"Cheers, I'm fine with anything. Whatever’s best for you to avoid autograph hunters." 

"Nah, that's not a problem. And it’s not like I’m Lewis."  
  
They sat outside on the terrace under the shade of a large sunhat. It was sunny but not overly hot, just right to chill with sunglasses on. Or with sunglasses on top of your head, in Sebastian’s case. The view to the azure Mediterranean from the table the waitress had selected for them was a luxury in itself. They discussed food options and ended up ordering the same salad. A small silence set in when the waitress left.

“So. Was it just me,” Sebastian started. “Or was last night really… really good?”

“It’s true, it was,” Stella conceded. There was no point denying it, but she played it down. “But personally, I would’ve chosen a different host for the gala.”

“Gala? What gala?” He bit his lower lip and she fought hard not to grin at his naughty face. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

“Too much booze, maybe?”

“Not really that.” He waited for a reaction but she gave him nothing. “Although I did try to go for a morning run to help get the alcohol out of my system before my trainer killed me. But then something else got in the way, you know?” He sipped his water, not taking his eyes off her. “So you’re staying in Monaco.”

“Until the end of the week, yeah.”

“So am I. And you’ll be busy? Not all the time, right?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

“Don’t do that, don’t go with the Finnish answers on me.” He chuckled and this time Stella did let a smile slip. He muttered something in German that she was sure was swearing. “Why are you making my life so difficult already?”

“Me? Please, do carry on. It looked like you were on the verge of saying something extremely important.”

“No, not at all. I was just thinking that… well, I’m in Monaco. You’re in Monaco.”

She gestured below to the marina, where a sea of yachts were anchored. “Lots of people are in Monaco, right now.”

“True. Some of them actually live here.”

“Tax avoiders, I suppose? Not you, you don’t live here,” she added. “You wouldn’t be staying at a hotel if you did.” 

“Really? What if I had done something a bit dodgy like hiring an escort and didn’t want her to know where I lived?” 

_Shit_. 

Stella gulped and broke into a sheepish smile. “Is it too late to apologise for insulting you?”

But there was no hint of offense from his side. In fact, Sebastian looked delighted, most likely at having managed to get her to say something stupid. “You were right," he sat back, the corners of his mouth still turned up. "I don’t live in Monaco. I prefer to dodge taxes somewhere else.”

“Oh, god, now you’re taking the piss. Fair enough, I deserved that,” she bowed her head. “Friends again?”

“It depends on what you think about what I’m going to say next.” He gazed at her. “I thought that maybe, if I’m staying and you’re staying and maybe we’re gonna be bored… or even if we’re not getting bored,” he giggled and she couldn’t help it but be amused. She had to admit she was curious to see where this was going. “I just thought that we could, you know,” he shrugged.

“We could what?”

He looked aside for a moment, licking his lips, before looking at her again with another shrug of shoulders. “I thought we could meet up. Hang out, you know?”

“Hang out.”

“Yeah. Do things. Together.” 

There was no mistaking the blazing look in his eyes. 

He was probably thinking that it didn’t hurt to chance his luck, Stella considered. A million clauses in the contract he’d signed with the agency and so many precautions taken, only to start thinking with his dick rather than his brain a mere day after. 

“I didn’t even tell you what I’m in Monaco for. You don’t even know me.”

“I know that you had fun, I had fun and we’re both sitting here now.”

There was little to argue against that, that was a fact. But if he thought it was going to be _that_ easy, he was sorely mistaken, in her opinion. 

It was a shame the waitress returned at that moment with their order. The loud noise of a plane flying low nearly drowned their voices and Stella was waiting for the girl to leave to resume their chat. But Sebastian beat her to it.

“So what does it feel like?” 

“What does it feel like? What do you mean?”

“Flying a plane.” Spearing a piece of chicken and a large portion of greens with his fork, he stuffed his mouth with them, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes. 

Stella blinked, the abrupt change of subject in the conversation catching her off guard. 

Denial was the instinctive reaction but Sebastian had obviously seen through the lie and wouldn’t fall for it no matter how much she insisted. She grabbed the olive oil ceramic dispenser to dress her salad, deciding to indulge him.

“We often travelled by plane in South Africa because of Dad’s work at the United Nations. Usually it was just, you know, a small turboprop powered aircraft, less than twenty passengers. But for a kid it was amazing seeing the farms and the crops, everything so colourful above the ground... Then when I was old enough I took a couple of lessons and I was hooked.” She put the balsamic vinegar in the cruet-stand and grabbed her cutlery. ”It’s the most exhilarating feeling in the world. It’s freedom. There’s nothing like it.”

She glanced up at him across the table and was surprised to find a soft expression lighting his face. For a moment she had the feeling he actually understood exactly what she meant.

Stella ended up sharing how she’d had a private pilot license for a number of years but had only recently decided to take up modular training so she could, step by step, reach her goal - to become a commercial airline captain. Sebastian was a very interested audience, asking questions and generally being supportive of her choice of fighting for a career that was rooted in a passion. She could imagine him relating to it at some level; also in handling a complex piece of engineering that travelled at high speed. 

They talked about Formula 1 too, about winning races and championships, as if battling to be the fastest racing driver in the world was a common thing. 

At some point, Kimi Raikkonen casually walked past in flip flops and Sebastian beamed at him. It didn’t seem like the Finn had spotted them at first but he did reply with a thumbs up as he made his way to a table on the opposite side of the terrace, and they both waved back. His wife joined him. 

“... so now we have a break until August,” Sebastian continued. “But there's always something to do. Like commitments with sponsors, that kind of thing. You have to do your part for the brand. That’s why I’m here this week. I decided to take a few days for that after the gala yesterday and do it all in one block instead of having to go back and forth at other times." 

“At least it’s Monte Carlo.” 

Sebastian didn’t look particularly excited and cocked his head to one side and then to the other. “It’s not that I don’t like Monaco, it’s nice here. But I’ll be honest, I can’t take it for more than one week at a time.” He concluded, sipping on his bottle of water. Slamming it on the table, he slid to the edge of the chair, crossing his hands over his stomach. “So. Are you free tonight?” The cheeky smile returned.

“Alright, Sebastian,” she chuckled. 

“Seb. You can call me Seb.”

“Alright,” she said. “I will tell you that I have a few events booked this week. And that today I’ll be at a cocktail reception in a yacht at sunset, but it shouldn’t take too long.” 

“And you’re not… you’re not going with anyone?”

“Nope. Just have to go there and have a drink with the guests.” She could see him putting two and two together. In the circles he frequented, surely he must have seen his share of girls like her. “So maybe I’m available after that. But I’m sure you have places to go to yourself.”

“Nah, I don’t care about parties if that’s what you mean, I’m skipping all that. I’m free every night, just come over.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

“No need to think, just say yes.” And he nodded once, encouragingly.

“I’ll _think_ about it.”

“Are you really going to leave me wondering for the rest of the day?”

“Isn’t that so much more exciting?”

They’d both be busy anyway, she didn’t think any of them would give it any thought. 

~~/~~

Stella was wrong: watching the guests in the yacht dancing to Abba’s Voulez-Vous from where she stood with a couple of other girls, swaying along while drinking champagne, her mind strayed to the conversation over lunch for the millionth time. Mostly, she thought about the potential trouble she could get herself into. 

Sebastian Vettel was a client. And the only reason they met at all was because he’d hired her through the agency. So if he was looking for a repeat, he had to buy another session with her, or one of the packages the agency offered, and she should have told him that as soon as he brought it up. But that had been the last thing on her mind at lunch, of course. Because why ruin an enjoyable meal with unsavoury business, right? 

The truth was that the allure of skirting the rules a little and toeing that line only made her want to take Sebastian up on his invitation more than she wanted to admit.

Predictably enough though, by the end of the reception she was sick of men and their sleazy ways. After another evening filled with sexual advances, she simply collapsed face first on the bed as soon as she arrived at her hotel. Back in the beginning, she imagined this sort of booking would be easy work, not much different than going to a club. Spending a whole night fending off a number of gross middle-aged men trying to feel her up in an unproblematic way, however, turned out not to be really the same... She had to flaunt herself and be pleasant, flirt back. Make them feel appreciated even if they weren’t supposed to touch her, while allowing them to treat her as a sex toy and not a human being. 

Doing it once or twice would not be as demeaning and humiliating, but there was simply no choice but to be up for it routinely. 

Natasha was working and Stella was on her own in the hotel room. She didn’t really want to be alone. 

Memories of the night before flashed in her mind. Of mouths pressed together hotly, tongues like velvet rubbing against each other's, his hands, his smile, his breath in her ear...

Walking down to the boutique hotel in front of the marina after a quick shower and a change of clothes, she was outside Sebastian’s hotel room knocking at his door before she could reason with herself to go to sleep instead. It was already pretty late but it wasn’t as if they’d arranged anything. 

His eyes widened when he saw her and he invited her in immediately. "I was starting to think you really wouldn't come."

"I almost didn’t.” 

It was amusing how he seemed to hesitate a little now, after being so bold at lunch: crossing and uncrossing his arms in front of his chest, then clasping his hands behind his back, only to put them in the pockets of his shorts. She decided to be a little more helpful. 

“You're lucky you're sweet,” she pressed the length of her body against his and added with a whisper in his ear, “with a lovely dick."

His t-shirt was flying off to some corner of the room before they even got to the bed, his head dipped down and nuzzling the side of her neck from behind. Stella arched her back and pushed her backside into his groin, throwing an arm around his neck to hold him close. 

She covered the hand that started stroking her between her legs over the denim shorts with her own, slowing him down. His other hand had already disappeared up, under her strappy top, having quickly discovered she wore no bra. 

“A little eager tonight, aren’t we, Sebastian?” 

“That’s because I know what’s waiting for me.”

"That’s it?” She bit down on his bottom lip. “Lost all restraint so quickly, since yesterday?"

"I’m going to let you in on a secret,” he bent her over on the bed and she moaned when he unzipped her shorts and slid his hand inside. “I can be a very impatient man."

~~/~~

Sebastian picked up a couple of water bottles and threw one to her, which she caught one handed, prompting a smile of approval from him. He sprawled on his back next to her again and then turned on his side facing her, propped on an elbow.

Lying on her stomach with her legs up crossed at the ankles, Stella rested her chin on her folded arms, slightly twisted in his direction. They just stared at each other in silence; as if trying to figure each other out. 

Sebastian reached out a hand and the motion of his arm sliding over the sheet sounded almost too loud in the quietness of the room. His finger traced the skin on her ribcage. She knew what he was staring at, or at least what was partly visible to him - her tattoo. 

"What does it mean?"

"No borders-" 

"No borders, just horizons - only freedom," he said without faltering.

It was impossible to read the complete sentence she had inked in the position she was lying in, as part would be hidden against the mattress. So Sebastian already remembered it from earlier.

"It's by Amelia Earhart, the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic. She was an adventurer, a pioneer," she said and he nodded in acknowledgment. "She's very inspirational. And the quote… the quote means a lot of things."

"But it's not just about flying planes, is it?”

She snorted. “We live in men’s world, isn’t it? Everything caters to your needs. Women are held to different standards.” She stopped herself from going on a rant. “It takes a lot to survive, even more to succeed. Maybe one day it’ll be different.” 

"So it’s about your freedoms.” 

“Do you never try to overstep limits others define for you? Go off track?” She countered. 

“In racing you have to respect track limits. Because if you don’t, in qualifying you get your lap time deleted or if it’s during the race you get a penalty.” 

“Yet you still want to push to the maximum anyway and try to cut straight as much as you can,” she finished, watching the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, as if in confirmation. “Then you know what it feels like.”

“When are you really leaving?” 

“Sunday night.”

“And do you have work tomorrow night?”

“I do, yes.”

There was a small silence. “And you think we could meet again after or..?”

Stella had another sip of water. “I think it’ll be quite late.” She let him fill in the blanks at his own free will. “But I’m free during the day.”

“I’m not, I have a full day schedule tomorrow…What about Friday?” 

“Same thing.”

“And for me.” He sounded frustrated now and dropped on his back, scratching at his hair with both hands. “Ah, this is stupid. I’d pay you double so you’d cancel your other things.”

Stella wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. “Right. I’ll forward your proposal to my employer,” she joked. 

“What if I did? Can I do that? I’d cover all your commitments.”

“What? You think you can throw out cash and buy people just like that, because you can?”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“Save it Sebastian, you’ve got some nerve. You’re lucky I’m experiencing post coital bliss cos I should kick you, honestly. God, you’re all the same.”

“But what do you want me to say?” He rolled on his side again, looking at her. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

Stella avoided his eyes. “It’s not about that, I came here tonight, didn’t I? It’s not only about what I want.”

“I obviously don’t want to interfere with your decisions, it’s your life. But if you’d let me, I’d cover all of it, I don’t care. Don’t they have anyone else to replace you?”

“That’s so not gonna happen, forget about it.”

“But why not? Is it just because it‘s me again? I can ask Britta to check for me if this is a problem.” He paused and then added. “If you let me of course. I won’t do it without your permission.”

“Sebastian, stop it. It doesn’t work like that.” 

He fingered through his blond curls at the front, scratched at the back of his neck but didn‘t argue anymore. 

Stella wasn’t sure why she was so adamant in refusing his suggestion. It was clear Sebastian didn’t know how these things worked - because the agency would more than welcome such a proposal, in fact they actively encouraged this type of situation and she could definitely do with the money. This would be gold for the agency and she shouldn’t even be sleeping with him without their knowledge.

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was bound to be a delicate matter; Stella shrugged.

“How safe are you? What happens if someone tries to hurt you?”

This wasn’t something she was thrilled to discuss, especially with a stranger. Not even her friends knew about this side of her life. But she made an effort, since he seemed genuine. 

“They check on us before and after each job. The majority of these men is all talk and think they own everyone but they’re scared shitless of all the papers they sign. Weren’t you?”

“I don’t mean the people who are buying your services so much.”

It was pointless to overthink it or spend too much energy fearing what could go wrong. She was well past that stage. 

“I’ve not been coerced to do anything, if that’s what you want to know. Everything I do, it’s entirely my choice. And there’s nothing to worry about because it’s just business. I meet a lot of people, have a lot of fun...” she said airily. “Win-win situation, if you ask me!”

For a moment it looked like he was going to say something else, but then he just pursed his lips with a small smile. Inching closer to her on the bed, he dropped a small kiss on her shoulder. She rolled onto her back and caressed the side of his face, playing with his light stubble. He dipped his head down to kiss her.

That night Stella didn’t leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voulez-Vous - ABBA
> 
> People everywhere  
> A sense of expectation hangin' in the air  
> Givin' out a spark  
>    
> Across the room your eyes are glowin' in the dark  
> And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end  
> Masters of the scene  
> We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more  
> You know what I mean
> 
> Voulez-vous  
> Take it now or leave it  
> Now is all we get  
> Nothing promised, no regrets  
> Voulez-vous  
> Ain't no big decision  
> You know what to do  
> La question c'est voulez-vous  
> Voulez-vous
> 
> I know what you think  
> The girl means business, so I'll offer her a drink  
> Lookin' mighty proud  
> I see you'll leave your table, pushin' through the crowd 
> 
> I'm really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game  
> Master of the scene  
> We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more  
> You know what I mean
> 
> Voulez-vous  
> Take it now or leave it  
> Now is all we get  
> Nothing promised, no regrets  
> Voulez-vous  
> Ain't no big decision  
> You know what to do  
> La question c'est voulez-vous  
> Voulez-vous
> 
> And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end  
> Masters of the scene  
> We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more  
> You know what I mean
> 
> Voulez-vous  
> Take it now or leave it  
> Now is all we get  
> Nothing promised, no regrets  
> Voulez-vous  
> Ain't no big decision  
> You know what to do  
> La question c'est voulez-vous  
> Voulez-vous


	5. Running Up That Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions, decisions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is reading, let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Happy International Women's Day to all the kickass ladies out there!! ❤

Coming to with a small shudder, Stella felt a finger running down her spine softly. 

Instinctively, she pulled on the sheet and shifted position but it made little difference, the feeling of barely being covered remained. It didn’t matter, though, she wasn’t cold. There was enough brightness to suggest the sun was out, but not too much that it disrupted her comfort. Then a warm hand covered the side of her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone, and she finally forced one lazy eye to open. Sebastian was leaning over, one knee on the mattress next to her. He was dressed and looked ready to go to the gym.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

In the haziness of sleep, she couldn’t be sure if she greeted him back or only uttered the words inside her head. 

“Sleep all you want, I’ll be back later. You can call if you need something.”

Then came a kiss on top of her head and her eyes fluttered shut again. The bed stopped dipping next to her and she remembered no more. 

When Stella woke up again, properly, for a moment she wondered if the memory from earlier was real at all or just a weird dream. Hotel rooms all looked the same after a while - but the current one definitely wasn’t hers in Monaco therefore the memory had to be real. Going by the absolute silence that enabled her to hear a vacuum cleaner somewhere in the distance, she must have been on her own. The sun was now forcing its way in through the edges of the window curtains and she rolled out of bed, wondering where her phone was. Probably in her pocket. Somewhere.  
  
Drawing the curtains aside to let sunshine in, she scanned the area for her clothes and ended up spotting them on a chair on the side of the bed where she slept. Her phone was there, too. Sebastian must have put it all there. There was also a piece of paper that looked like a receipt on top, but there was something scribbled on it. She picked it up. It was a phone number - _his_ phone number. She didn’t recognise the international indicatif and just looked at the neat, even handwriting until it blurred in her vision. She put it down again.

Padding over to the living room of the suite, she went straight to the coffee machine she remembered seeing before and got herself a cup before she dragged her feet to the bathroom for a shower. Not bothering to put on more than underwear and the flowery strappy top, Stella curled in one of the chairs outside in the charming balcony with another cup of coffee, checking her phone notifications. She abandoned the device on the table after awhile and stared at the blue horizon, her mind drifting away.

She believed Sebastian when he offered to free her from the remaining commitments of that week. It wasn’t as though money was a problem for him and when it came down to it, he would in fact be paying for her services. She'd been quick to shut down that option but the fact was, the agency would be thrilled with it and she’d be well rewarded too. Everyone would be happy with the arrangement.

In the end, this was exactly what Stella had signed up for and what many of the girls aspired to - having regular clients who would book multiple sessions and with whom they could even have fun and enjoy themselves. Gifts were common, from what she’d heard, so was travelling… It was the pinnacle for a high class escort. Replacing her following commitments with someone who she had already realised wouldn't be a chore was a no brainer and she should be on the phone with Jenna immediately.

And yet the idea was so dismaying. 

The money was good and sorely needed, the only reason she had taken up this job in the first place. But the past couple of nights hadn’t been about that and it pained her to get the agency involved again in this. Everything she’d done, it had been out of personal choice and for fun only. That thrill and freedom was partly why she’d enjoyed it so much too. It helped that Sebastian had treated her with more respect than she was used to, in comparison to other men who - clients or not - often made her feel like a purchase or an accessory. 

Natasha would chastise her for acting so sentimental. There was no reason to turn this down, quite the opposite. Maybe she wouldn’t bring this subject up herself but if Sebastian mentioned it again, she’d have to take it, it would be a waste of an opportunity otherwise. 

She heard the door of the room not long after - he was back. She could see the German driver peering around in the suite, looking for her, until he spotted her outside in the balcony. Coming over with a smile, he leaned on the doorframe, his eyes skimming over her figure. 

“Hello.” She motioned with her chin towards him. He was drenched in sweat. “Hurts so good?”

He sniffed, wiping his forehead with the back of one hand. “Yeah. Lots of cycling, endurance training.” 

Stamina was most definitely _not_ an issue, that much she’d already gathered. "Is that all necessary for racing or is it just because you’re into it?"

"With the speeds you reach in a Formula 1 car, the G-forces you experience are extreme, you have to be in optimum physical condition. You don’t want your neck to snap when you brake, for example. Or crash. It’s not just," he mimed turning a steering wheel to the left and right, “you know?”

“Of course. G-forces. It’s the same for fighter pilots.”

“With them it’s more… vertical.”

“All directions, really. But yeah, of course you all need to be in shape, I suppose I just never really thought of it before… A lot of core strength is required, I reckon?”

“Exactly. At the same time you have to be careful to keep your weight down because there’s strict regulations about the weight of the car. I'm not tall and luckily I don't have heavy bones so I don't have it too bad. I can eat dessert once in awhile," he joked.

"Cool." She nodded. “Incredible. Very proud of myself, I shagged a professional athlete. I suppose I’ll have to put that in my CV.” 

His eyes crinkled in amusement and he wiggled his eyebrows. “I hope it lived up to your expectations!” He pointed inside the room. “I’m going to shower and then I need to meet Britta in a couple of hours. We could grab lunch now if you want?”

“Why not. Breakfast sounds great, cheers.”

Sebastian quickly emerged in jeans and a white t-shirt, towelling his head. They picked something from the room service menu and simply sat outside with a drink just chatting about fitness and diet plans. 

It was quiet and peaceful and it was a strange feeling considering they were right in the middle of busy, cosmopolitan Monte Carlo.

“Have you thought again about what I proposed last night?”

Stella continued casually curling her hair around her finger and it took some effort not to close her eyes in reluctance. She’d almost been hoping he’d forgotten or changed his mind. 

“It’s not early anymore. And you already had coffee, too.” He pointed at the empty cup on the table and she hated how he remembered the conversation from the day before. 

"So?"

"I thought it was like,” he clicked his fingers. “Like a switch."

"Is that how caffeine works for you?"

"I don't know, I don't drink coffee."

The mere notion that someone wouldn’t never failed to shock Stella. "How can you _not_ drink coffee?"

"Why do _you_ drink coffee?"

"Because I fucking love it?"

"There you go, that's why I don't. I don't like it."

She rolled her eyes and laughed.

He leaned forward with his elbows on the table and looked at the glass surface for a moment, before facing her a little more seriously. “Stella, I… I hope I didn’t offend you when I suggested that. I'm really sorry if I did, it was not my intention. It just seemed to me like we both wanted to meet again and it was just the schedules not allowing it… and maybe that would be a way to solve it, you know? I apologise if it came across in a bad way, the last thing I wanted was to make you feel like-”

"Like I'm up for sale?"

He looked down at his hands, before leaning back on his chair, shoulders sagging. “I didn’t think of it. I’m really sorry.”

A guy apologising for potentially making Stella feel like an object and even showing discomfort at the idea. If he was lying, then he deserved an Oscar for his performance. He seemed to have genuinely interpreted her reluctance as Stella taking offense at what he’d said. 

She traced the edge of her glass with one finger. “I think your people would be appalled if you did that.”

He huffed, a tinge of annoyance escaping. “Who are my people and what does anyone have to do with my life?”

“Your Britta seemed very protective of you, let’s put it that way.”

“I owe her a favour. I asked for her help with this because I trust her, but she did it against her will." He paused, fidgeting with his hands. "She thought it was a stupid action, what I did. Getting in touch with your agency. And to be honest with you, I really don’t think I’ll ever do anything like that ever again. But I also wouldn’t want to change anything that’s happened.”

The bluntness with which he said it was slightly shocking. He was definitely a flatterer but also never sounded fake and Stella was not used to that. 

She was not going to call her supervisor at the agency, she decided. Sebastian wasn’t the type of person that fitted in this sort of business or environment and she had no wish to lure him back into something which he already viewed as a mistake. If they managed to meet again it would be very nice; but if they didn’t see each other again, she was fine with it. And maybe she was about to miss out on some good money, but too bad. It was preferable this way.

They were about to leave, together, when he draped an arm around her waist from behind and pulled her into a hug. 

“Call me, okay?” He said in her ear and then leaned back to look at her, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Can I have your number?”

“You already know my number. My room number.” She smiled when he closed his eyes in defeat. Reaching up with her hand, she traced his upper lip softly with her finger. “Can I kiss you?”

"You think you need to ask?"

There was a good chance it would be their last.

~~/~~

Stella was looking at her outfit options hung inside the wardrobe, pondering what to wear for the evening ahead, when Natasha arrived.

“Hey, finally. Where have you been since yesterday?”

“Just spending time with some friends.” Stella dropped on her back on the bed, covering her face with an arm. “Help, don’t know what to wear tonight. It’s going to be tedious, isn’t it?”

“Is that for the party at Dmitry’s boat? Lots of white old men so you know what to expect, but plenty of Russians so potencial for a good fight. Think you need to revise your definition of boring.” She stared at the wardrobe. “Red mini dress.”

“Ugh, no. Too short, too tight, too much... tits.”

“Since when have you become a nun? Perfect if you want to aim higher.”

“Fix an arrangement during the event? To end up not getting paid for it, like last time? Told you I’m not doing that again." She sighed. "To be honest, I’m seriously regretting taking so many days for this trip, the money isn’t worth it. I could just do more shifts at the café.”

“Again the same story. Please. The hard life of partying and drinking in Monte Carlo,” Natasha deadpanned. “This is so much better than the same old in London.”

“I have to sit five exams at the test centre and if I fail because I didn’t have time to revise, I have to pay extra for another go. So I’m not sure it’s worth being here,” she mumbled. “I’m not at campus, it‘s always more difficult with distance learning.” 

“You act like you’d be studying night and day if you were home and not procrastinating in front of the TV watching Netflix and those old shows you like.”

"I’m still wasting time and there’s more distractions, it’s difficult to focus,” she whined. “Not sure I thought this through.”

"Tell me something new."

"Oi,” she aimed a kick with her bare foot at Natasha’s leg. “You are supposed to help."

Natasha sat down on the bed next to her. “Call Jenna and tell her you need a couple of days off. If that’s what you want. I can fill in for you? You’re always available, she won’t mind if you go home earlier. What else do you've got booked this week?”

Stella raised herself on her elbows and narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were seeing one of your regulars tonight?”

“I can adjust and do it all, no prob. Happy to put in some extra hours,” she blew her a kiss. “Let me have a look at your schedule.”

Stella bit her lip. When she reached out for her phone to check her bookings, her eyes inadvertently fell on the hanger with the black mermaid dress she wore for the Formula 1 gala. 

~~/~~

  
  


The hotel room door opened and on the other side was a drowsy, sleepy looking Sebastian with his white t-shirt all crumpled, rubbing an eye. He seemed to instantly go wide awake as he realised who was on the other side. Déjà vu from the previous night.

“Stella. What happened?” He took a hand to her upper arm, surely noting the wet workout clothes, and took her inside. “I thought... why were you in the rain? Do you want a towel or-” 

“I cancelled it.” She blurted out, heading straight for the couch and sitting down, stretching her legs in front of her and planting her hands on her knees. He stood near her. “I cancelled everything for the rest of the week.”

Sebastian's lips parted in silent surprise and, slowly, he moved to take a seat on the other end of the sofa, turning towards her and resting an elbow on the backrest. He took a hand to his mouth, lightly nibbling on a fingernail. “So you don’t have to… you know?”

“Nope,” she gave him a quick glance. It was usually easy to read him, but this time Stella was not entirely sure if it was just curiosity stamped on his face. “I have exams in a fortnight and I need to revise. I was worried about that, so someone offered to fill in for me. So I can go home earlier. And I wasn’t really planning to come here or anything. But I… I don’t know. Came for a run before packing up and then… I don’t know, I guess since I was just passing in front of your hotel… just decided to see if you were around. I don’t even know if you’re busy or made plans in the meanwhile, sorry if I’m just barging in.”

“Depends if taking a nap before dinner counts as plans…” he supported his head on the arm propped on the backrest and smiled.

“I don’t do this often. Get paid to have sex with someone.” Stella stared firmly at her knees. “Most of the things I do don’t work like that. I just sort of have to accompany men or show up at an event and look pretty, give them a bit of attention... endure wankers and get a pat on the bum, gross stuff like that. It was gonna be like that tonight too. Just entertain at another yacht party, nothing more.” She could see his jaw dropping slightly in unconcealed surprise. “Yeah, I know what you were thinking. That it was going to be like it was for the Formula 1 gala this week. It'd be an all nighter, yeah, but not like that. But it could have.” 

Sebastian remained silent, letting her speak, and she collected her thoughts before resuming. 

“I cancelled because these days in Monaco, these small parties are just a tip, really. I had to travel here so we’re making the most of the trip. I came for one job, which for me made the whole week worth it, by far, and that was the gala with you. Anything else is an extra. I could have flown back home yesterday if I wanted and my week was made. I’m a part-time hostess at a café back home too, so it‘s not like I don’t have other income.”

He was still listening to her quietly.

“If you want to fly for an airline you need an ATPL and the training can cost up to a hundred thousand quid. And then you need experience to get a job that pays well and flight hours cost money too. Needless to say not everyone has that kind of money just laying around in their bank account. You need to work, get a loan, whatever funding you can get. I got a loan to cover the initial payment and some expenses, but it’s not enough, I need a lot more. I squandered my savings when I moved out of Dad’s house, I’d die before borrowing from my parents now. I was working three jobs in London until a friend told me I could make some easy money like this. So I went for it. It’s just temporary, it’s... I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She made another long pause and then added in a small voice, “I don’t want you to think badly of me.” She rubbed the palms of her hands on her thighs, only now realising how sweaty they were.

“I like to think I form my opinions on people based on their character and sometimes they do things and have their reasons but just because I don’t know why doesn’t mean I have a right to know or to judge,” he said calmly. “You didn’t have to tell me anything, it’s private and I respect that. But if it helps in some way that you shared that, then I’m happy that you did.”  
  
Stella released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

It shouldn’t matter at all what he thought of her. It was stupid and she didn’t know why she cared. She shouldn’t care. Certainly didn’t seem like any of it mattered to _him_ , and she was perfectly fine with it, as she would with anyone who just wanted to get laid. To end up pouring her heart out like that, going into subjects that she didn’t like to discuss and wasn’t proud of, that invariably upset her... it was unnecessary. 

But it was still reassuring to hear those words from him.

Rubbing her cold arms, her clothes damp but this time not because of summer humidity, she felt another shudder down her spine. Outside the sun had conquered the clouds but was now setting, warm orange light filtering through the windows.

“I need to head back to my hotel. Thanks for listening and I’ll see myself out now-”

“You’re cold. Why don’t you get a hot shower?” He pointed towards the bathroom. “Relax. Stay here with me, we can find something funny to watch on TV. Or, or we could go out if you’d like that?”

It made her smile. She was starting to feel a little better. “Staying here with you sounds brilliant, actually.”

“Great. I’m just going to warn Britta not to wait for me for dinner. No, no- don’t worry,” he was quick to add once he realised she was about to protest. “She’ll be happy to get rid of me for awhile. You haven’t eaten dinner yet?” 

She replied with a shake of head. 

Sebastian reached out to grab a menu from the coffee table, which he then threw at her. “Then we have a plan.”

He kept glancing at her curiously as he typed on his phone, probably to cancel his previous arrangement, while she went through the options, undecided. She wasn't exactly hungry. 

“You’re not really going back to London tomorrow, are you?” 

“My flight is at 9am.”

“But you won’t go?”

“I’ve already checked-in.” She stood up with a smile in front of his disappointed face. She toed off her trainers. “Pasta for me, please. I need carbs.”

She stayed in the shower for a long time, clearing her head, the hot water also dissipating the tension in her muscles, tension that she hadn’t even realised she’d accumulated. When she heard the door outside and Sebastian speaking, she rushed out in a fluffy bathrobe and her hair wrapped up in a towel. It was dark outside, the lights in the marina sparkling bright.

They sat on the couch together, plates in hand, eating and chatting lightly. Mostly, Sebastian telling her anecdotes about life behind the scenes in racing competitions, at her request, about the camaraderie and the pranks. Also with sponsors, such as what he was currently doing.

“- now if you leave I don’t have anything to look forward to for the rest of my stay here,” he said, displaying a perfect pout, his lips curved downwards. “Bored and lonely in my hotel room.”

Stella only offered him an eye roll and a face of doubt in reply as she removed the towel from her head and chucked it aside.

“So you see, you can’t go.”

She giggled, combing her hair down with her fingers before leaving it to dry. “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of finding ways to keep boredom away.”

“I already did, yeah, found a perfect one. But now you want to leave," he sighed dramatically but then put on a more serious face. "Can I ask you where you’re gonna stay if you don’t go home tomorrow? I mean, since you’re not gonna be working?

“You mean hypothetically, of course.”   
  
He waved a hand dismissively. “Hypothetically.”  
  
It was a pertinent question: indeed the accommodation was provided by the agency.

“ _Hypothetically_ , still with Natasha. We could pull that off, I’m sure. I don’t know, I haven‘t thought about any of it. Why would I?” At a certain level, of course Stella had thought about it... That he was so keen on spending time with her while they were in Monaco had never really left her mind. She was just trying to be the responsible adult.

“Why don’t you bring your things and stay here with me?"  
  
Stella scoffed in disbelief. She wavered between finding him quite perceptive and down to earth - and incredibly obvious and naive at the same time. 

“It’s just practical,” he added, catching on to her hesitation. “Since you’re gonna sleep here anyway.”

“Sleep here? Who says I’m gonna sleep here?”

He reached out and rested a hand on her inner thigh, finding a patch of exposed skin where the bathrobe opened. She watched his face as he drew a small circle on her skin with the tip of his finger, inching up her leg. He glanced up at her again. “I do.”

He leaned over to kiss her and took her hand, pulling her to him. She sat astride his lap but removed his hands from her waist, to spread his arms open along the top of the sofa’s backrest. She pressed her mouth to his, tipping his head back gently until it was resting on the sofa, her fingertips brushing up his arms, his shoulders.

Running them up his neck and the sides of his head, she traced the outline of his ears. When she broke the kiss softly and pulled back, he remained with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. His stubble had grown since the night she’d met him. She liked it and how it accentuated the rugged look. Lowering her head, she flattened her tongue on the front of his neck, licking upwards. He swallowed heavily and she puckered her lips over his Adam's apple, moving her tongue in circles just below. She could feel the vibration when he let out a small noise at the back of his throat.

She pushed her chest against him, snuggling into him, and took an earlobe between her teeth and nibbled. He groaned low in her ear. 

“Stella…”  
  
He lifted up his head searching for her mouth and she wrapped her hands around his neck, feeling the muscles tensing. They kissed harder, her fingers digging in the blond hair at the back of his head.

Untying her bathrobe belt, he loosened it from her body and then pushed it down her shoulders. She leaned back to let the fabric drop freely around her waist and straightened her back, looking him in the eye challengingly. He shifted on the couch under her and she smirked.

“Things getting tight down there already? But I've barely touched you." 

“You’re unbelievably sexy.”

She took a hand to the back of his head again while he buried his face in her chest hungrily.

“I bet you say that to every naked woman on your lap.”

“You’re sexy with clothes on, too.”

Most men treated her breasts a bit too roughly for her taste, squeezing them as if they were stress balls. But Sebastian was gentle and the way he touched her turned her on easily. 

“You’re a boobs type of bloke, aren't you?”

He looked up from below with a nipple between his lips before replying, opening his mouth and taking more of her. “Show me a man who isn’t.”

"It’s just boobs, there’s nothing to it."

"But look," he leaned back in incredulity, making a show of staring at her chest and pointing at her breasts with both hands, as if cupping them. "They're perfect!"

The night wasn’t yet over when Stella decided to postpone her flight home. 

This ruthless job that she hated as much as she needed was going to leave her soulless. The toll on her was becoming more and more obvious overtime. Being treated as an item by default knocked down her self-esteem tremendously, no matter how much she pinned it on the unworthiness of the men that hired her, the company that enabled it and the society they lived in that protected them and condoned it, turned a blind eye to it. And on top of it, her own choice of doing this and how disgusted she was with herself for taking this path. She wasn't any better than the others.

Natasha, like other girls she’d met, wasn't like that. She sent money to her family, the main reason she took the job, but she liked expensive items and in general had a different lifestyle. She enjoyed what she did - or so she claimed, since Stella wasn’t privy to what went through her mind before bed or when she woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. But there were other girls who lived a good life like that. She could, as well. But the superficial glamour could never hide the crude fact that she was selling her body.

She didn’t _want_ this. It wasn’t what she was either - only what she did. It was only a means to an end, a trade off. It had to be temporary and she could never let herself get used to it. She promised herself to fight any temptation to call it “easy” as others did, not to succumb to the toxicity it entailed. The conflict inside her was damaging and consumed her; she had never known conflict like this, life used to be a big party before. But at least conflict ensured she was still free minded.

And so, she allowed herself a break. Maybe this German guy was just a convenient excuse - turning up at the right place, at the right time. But she deserved to enjoy her life, she didn't want to stop living. And if that was hooking up with someone because she wanted to - and not because she had to - then she’d take it, for herself. It would be hers and hers alone. 

She would make the most out of her remaining days in Monaco. 

To hell with the rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) - KATE BUSH
> 
> If I only could, I'd be running up that hill.  
> If I only could, I'd be running up that hill."
> 
> It doesn't hurt me.  
> Do you want to feel how it feels?  
> Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?  
> Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?  
> You, it's you and me.
> 
> And if I only could,  
> I'd make a deal with God,  
> And I'd get him to swap our places,  
> Be running up that road,  
> Be running up that hill,  
> Be running up that building.  
> If I only could, oh...
> 
> You don't want to hurt me,  
> But see how deep the bullet lies.  
> Unaware I'm tearing you asunder.  
> Ooh, there is thunder in our hearts.
> 
> Is there so much hate for the ones we love?  
> Tell me, we both matter, don't we?  
> You, it's you and me.  
> It's you and me won't be unhappy.
> 
> And if I only could,  
> I'd make a deal with God,  
> And I'd get him to swap our places,  
> Be running up that road,  
> Be running up that hill,  
> Be running up that building,  
> Say, if I only could, oh...
> 
> You,  
> It's you and me,  
> It's you and me won't be unhappy.
> 
> "C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,  
> Let me steal this moment from you now.  
> C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,  
> Let's exchange the experience, oh..."
> 
> And if I only could,  
> I'd make a deal with God,  
> And I'd get him to swap our places,  
> Be running up that road,  
> Be running up that hill,  
> With no problems.
> 
> If I only could  
> Be running up that hill  
> With no problems...
> 
> If I only could, I'd be running up that hill.  
> If I only could, I'd be running up that hill.


End file.
